


Finding a Rhythm

by brittishmenorbust



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Dancing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Professor Spencer Reid, Roxy the dog loves you, Self Confidence Issues, Stalking, and you both have, eventual light smut, friends with the profilers, he's nervous, kind of, more like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 79,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15088226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittishmenorbust/pseuds/brittishmenorbust
Summary: You are Morgan's childhood friend. You've moved to be closer to him and his growing family. As his best-woman for the wedding, he's tasked you with learning how to dance to impress Savannah's relatives, as he has. However, when he introduces you to your instructor, Dr. Spencer Reid, your life changes in ways you couldn't have imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> Fair warning, this fic will not include much smut. What there is, will be vague, and focus more on an emotional connection. 
> 
> Yours,  
> An Asexual Writer

The house was beautiful. It was completely and utterly gorgeous. At least on the outside. Inside, you knew, would be a different story, or you wouldn’t be here with him. 

“It’s going to be the perfect home when we’re done with it,” you marvelled, smiling as the warm sun hit your face. 

Morgan beamed. His smiled had changed recently. Ever since his son was born, you could see it. 

“I wouldn’t trust anyone but you to help me,” he said. 

He held his hand out and you indulged him, wiggling yours over his and then bumping fists together as you had when you were kids.

You’d known Derek Morgan for almost a quarter of a century now. You’d met when you were seven. Somehow, even though you’d both moved several times, been in different places and gone through so much change, you were still each others oldest friends. Although both your parents had hoped you’d end up together, it was never like that. Morgan was your friend, your brother. And now he was getting married, starting a family. 

“There’s a lot of wallpaper,” he warned, frowning at the house. “Almost all the flooring has to be redone, and there’s a wall I want to knock down to combine the kitchen and dining room.”

You nodded, half listening as you watched the way the shade hit the house in the late afternoon sun, dappling the white exterior with bright and dark spots. The dark brown wood complemented the white face in the classic Tudor fashion. It was no small house. It was a house that could stand at least one more kid comfortably and still have room for all the memories. Ivy grew around and up the left side of the house, like some kind of fairytale. The large bay windows of the family room let in the sun like an old friend. 

It was about time Morgan had some light in his life. You’d only met Savannah in person about a month ago when you first moved up here, but Morgan had been sure to introduce you over FaceTime when he knew it was getting serious. 

You were so happy for him. He’d been through a few relationships, but you’d never really met any of them. He’d talked about them, but for him to actually share this one with you was something else. And that kid. He was a charmer already just like his father.

“It’ll just be me and a few guys,” you said. “I trust them, worked with them the past month. They do good work, and if not, I’ll whip them into shape.”

Morgan laughed freely and nodded. 

“I have no doubt, Skates.”

You smirked at your old nickname. It was the dawn of your friendship, actually. He’d met you when you were crying because you’d just fallen really hard off your roller skates and skinned your knee. Even then he was so kind. He had stopped to help you. 

“What’s wrong, skates?” he’d asked, as he hadn’t known your name yet. You warmed at the memory.

“Manny will be here soon,” you said, looking down the quiet street for a car. “He’s my main guy, then there’s just Tim and Ryan, but you’ll meet them another time.”

“Sounds good,” he said. Then, with a mischievous smile, “You, uh, like any of these trustworthy gentleman?” He asked coyly, smirking and not daring to make eye contact.

You hit his arm, hard enough to wipe the smirk off his face and scolded him. 

“No,” you laughed. “Do I ever?”

Morgan rolled his eyes. 

“Never,” he admitted. 

“They’re very respectful,” you admitted. “Ryan’s married, but Tim and Manny haven’t even tried to hit on me. Maybe it’s the boots,” you looked down at your steel toe footwear. “Maybe they make steel toe stilettos.”

“Like you’d wear that.”

“Guess I’ll die alone then,” you shrugged, not bothered.

You knew he was just looking out for you, but romance was never something you thought about or went after.

Just then you heard the car pulling up. Manny got out of the car and walked over to the two of you. His height being a little over six feet meant you had to look up at him, and could easily fit under his chin. His smile was infectious and his hair always looked great, though he wouldn’t tell you his secret. Manny went right to you, and even though you’d seen him the previous day, greeted you with a hug. You could feel Morgan’s eyes on you and wanted to explain that it wasn’t like that, no matter what he might think. You were close with Manny, good friends, and he was a hugger. Still, you blushed knowing that Morgan would tease you for it later regardless.

“This the famous Derek Morgan?” he asked, holding out his hand. Morgan smiled and shook it.

“Famous, huh?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t get cocky, anyone who wears a badge is famous in his eyes. He’d be impressed by a health inspector.”   
“They keep us safe too,” Manny jested.

“Should we take a look around the inside of the house?” you asked. 

“Let’s go.”

Morgan led you through the old front door. Paint chips fell when you opened it, spilling red bits onto the ground. It felt like you were stepping into a time machine. Everything looked like something your great grandma would have chosen when she was young.

There were old, dirty carpets in most of the rooms, but you suspected there might be a nice hardwood underneath. The moldings, if they were present at all, were scratched and nicked. Morgan hadn’t been lying about the wallpaper either. There was floral everywhere. The previous owner had moved out all of the furniture, but you could just see the matching couch and chair.

“Wow,” you remarked, but you were sincere. It had amazing potential. Once you were done gutting it, it would be perfect.

“I know,” Morgan smiled, reading your tone perfectly as always.

You walked around into the kitchen. The tile was extremely neglected, and the counters were in worse shape than the moldings. There was a stain or two on the ceiling. The wallpaper in this room was of different fruits. You couldn’t wait to tear it all down. You were getting excited thinking of all the ways you could make this a wonderful home for your friend.

The upstairs bedrooms and bathrooms offered just as much room for improvement as the downstairs, and by the time you made it back outside, you were nearly buzzing.

“This is a great project,” you beamed.

“I knew you’d love it.”

“Want to carve out a plan over dinner?” Morgan asked. “Savannah took the baby to her mom’s house.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” you said. “You in, Manny?”

“You buyin’?” he smirked. 

“No,” you laughed.

“Ah, alright,” he shrugged. “It was worth a try. I’m in.”

“Cool, just follow me, I’m not far,” Morgan instructed. 

You both nodded and followed him as he drove a couple miles to a nice apartment building. You parked and followed him up. They had made a nice home here for the time being. The apartment wasn’t immaculate, as they had a baby, but it was lived in and homey. Savannah had the taste you wished you could learn, with cozy yet stylish decoration and plenty of family pictures. You walked over to one of her and her parents standing in front of what looked like a mansion. 

“Damn,” you exclaimed. “Is that theirs?”

Manny rubbed his chin and let out a sigh of envy. 

“Damn nice house,” he said.

“Damn nice  _ mansion _ ,” You corrected.

Morgan laughed as he uncorked a bottle of wine. And showed you. You smiled.

“Yeah, she’s um, her parents are quite well off,” he said casually.

“Can you adopt me?” you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to look young and cute.

“And me?” Manny chimed in, mimicking your expression.

“I already got one baby, I don’t need two more.”

You frowned and Manny pouted. 

“I can offer you some takeout menus,” he said, holding out an array.

You huffed and took one, flipping through it. In the end you just ended up ordering pizza. You got a few notebooks together and mapped out a basic plan for the remodel. 

Morgan made it clear that, while he wanted to help on the project, his main duty was stay at home dad. Savannah still had some maternity leave left, but he wanted to make sure she could rest and get ready to go back to work.

“It’s not going to drive you crazy, staying at home?”

Morgan shook his head. 

“Not after all the shit I’ve been through,” he said. 

You felt your heart catch in your throat. This was the closest you ever got with him to talking about his job. He never went into detail ever. 

_ You’re the only thing this job hasn’t touched, _ he would always say whenever you asked about anything - what was wrong, who did he work with, what were some of the cases - and it was always the same. He didn't want you to be in that part of his life. He wanted you to be untouched by that sadness.

“I bet it’s not an easy gig,” Manny lamented, grabbing a slice of pizza. “She mentioned what you do. Catching serial killers? That’s some late night drama shit. Very cool.”

Morgan laughed. 

“It’s probably not as glamorous as you’d think.”

“Well, being a stay at home dad is cool too,” he said. “I admire that a lot. I wish my dad had been there for me more growing up. Mostly I just saw the back of his head as he went to his study at night, or the back of his head when he got into his car in the morning. It’s cool, man.”

“Cheers,” Morgan said, lifting his beer.

You all clinked your drinks and took a sip.

“You got any kids?” Morgan asked, knowing full well that you’d told him he didn’t.

“Nah,” Manny said. “Haven’t gotten to it yet. Haven’t found the right one to make it happen.”

Morgan looked at you suggestively, somehow managing to avoid Manny’s attention. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

“Not easy to meet girls on the job huh?” he asked.

Manny laughed. 

“No, not really. She’s one of maybe five girls I’ve seen. Unfortunately a very dude centric job,” he shrugged. “But she’s a great wingwoman.”

“I know,” Morgan grinned. “She’s the best.”

“I am,” you shrugged, taking a drink.

“We should go out again soon,” Manny said. And you knew when this night was over you’d have to explain again to Morgan that he didn’t mean it like that.

“Yeah, I got you. I’ll talk you up,” you promised.

“Thanks, man,” he clinked glasses with you.

You didn’t know how Manny knew you weren’t interested in him like that. You sensed that if you were, he would ask you out. But somehow, unlike a lot of men you’d met, you could tell that he just knew, and didn’t press it. You respected him so much for that, and knew you’d made a great choice in workmate.

“What about you?” Morgan asked. “Manny a good wingman?”

“I am an excellent wingman,” he said. “I just… don’t get permission to practice,” he pouted.

“Shut up,” you laughed. “I just don’t find anyone that’s interesting enough,” you shrugged. “Most barflies are not my type.”

“One day,” Morgan said knowingly. “It’ll sneak up on ya.”

“Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes. “That would be the day.”

When you had put together a solid plan, you decided to meet Morgan at the house the following afternoon to start measuring and planning more. You told Manny to drop by and hang out if he wanted to, and he seemed eager. He and Morgan got along well, and by the end of the night, they were old friends. You marvelled at Manny and Morgan’s ease. They seemed to get people instantly, seemed to connect and feel comfortable so easily. You were envious, thinking of how nervous and awkward you were when meeting new people. 

Manny left first with a hug that Morgan surprisingly accepted. He hugged you too, wrapping his giant arms around you and giving your hair a careless tousle just short of a nuggie before heading out. You collected your things shortly after, waiting for the teasing you thought would come from Morgan. When you heard nothing, you were shocked.

“What, no jokes about needing to get with Manny?” you asked. Morgan put his hands up as if defending himself. 

“He’s a good guy,” he said. “But not right for you.”

“How would you know?” you laughed. 

“One, I’ve known you your whole life. Two, I’m a profiler.”

He listed these things off on his fingers. 

“Yeah, well, you’re right for once,” you admitted. “Sometimes it’s annoying not being interested in anyone.”

“Come here,” he said. 

You sighed and accepted his hug. 

“You’ll be fine,” he promised. “Just meet me at the house tomorrow, and we’ll take the rest of our lives from there, how’s that?”

“Sounds good,” you sighed. 

He gave the top of your head a kiss before walking you to the door. 

“Say hi to the fam for me,” you said. 

He promised to do so and you left, going home to an empty apartment with your thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

You weren’t the first to arrive the following morning, nor, as you entered the house, did it turn out you were even the third. You walked into the living room area, admiring how the afternoon sun filled the room and silently promising to paint the walls a light color so the light would bounce and fill every corner.

Manny saw you first and ran at you, picking you up in a hug and swinging you around.

“Woah,” you laughed as he put you down. “What a greeting.”

“I’m just so excited!” he grinned. “Look at that, another profiler! It’s like I’m living in Forensic Files, except it’s not narrated, and in HD.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at his obsession with true crime shows. 

“Glad my childhood friendship could be of service to your interests,” you laughed. 

You glanced around him to see who it was that he was talking about. The man he was referring to couldn’t have looked more out of place in a construction site. He wore a dress shirt and a sweater, dress pants, and, surprisingly, converse. His wavy hair was being attacked by a nervous hand that ran through it about five times as he saw you looking at him. He then stuffed it into his pocket and pressed his lips together, looking at Morgan. 

You walked towards the two of them with Manny walking behind you. 

“Hi,” you said, holding out your hand. 

The man winced as if you’d presented him with a dead fish. You glanced at Morgan who looked at you apologetically. 

“He doesn’t really shake--”

“On one square centimeter of your skin, there’s about 1,500 bacteria,” the new man said. 

You dropped your hand and glanced at Manny who shrugged. 

“Right,” you said awkwardly, looking at Morgan to tell you who the hell this guy was.

“What he meant to say was,” he looked at the man and motioned for him to try again. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I work… Worked with Morgan,” he said, his eyes darting between you and the floor.

“Hi,” you said, and gave him your name.

“Oh, I know,” he laughed. “Morgan’s told us about you a few times.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “He never talks about work so… sorry, I don’t know anything about you.”

“We used to work together, but I teach most of the time now, and Morgan obviously left for all this,” he said looking around the house. A small smile touched his lips. 

“Oh, teaching, that’s cool,” you said, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. Why were you so awkward? Teaching is cool? So lame. 

“Speaking of teaching,” Morgan smiled mischievously. 

You turned to him, worry spreading across your face. 

“Reid here knows how to dance,” he said carefully. Spencer furrowed his brow and looked at Morgan, unsure where this was going. “And… I know someone who needs to learn how to dance.” You looked at him, still confused. “For a wedding coming up… With in-laws who are very fancy and have requested that we have some formal dances… that you will need to know as my best woman?”

“Oh shit,” you mumbled. “Seriously, dude?”

Morgan laughed and you scowled at his amused grin. 

“Sorry, Skates, you said yes.”

“Had I known there would be dancing I would have been out of town that week,” you muttered, folding your arms over your chest.    
“Don’t close off,” Morgan said, reaching out to unfold your arms and hold your hands in his. “This is important to me, please,” he said, and you read the sincerity in his face and voice. “Please help her?” he asked Spencer.

Reid seemed in a daze and blinked a few times before speaking. 

“What?” he asked. He visibly blushed.

“Teach her how to dance so she doesn’t embarrass me?”

You scoffed. 

“I… I don’t, I don’t think…”

“You taught me,” Morgan reminded him. 

“I would have paid to see that,” you remarked. 

“Tickets were not for sale,” Morgan winked. “Come on, kid, please?”

“I find YouTube videos very helpful, I… I…” He looked at his feet and shifted his weight. 

It seemed like he would do anything in his power not to help you learn how to dance. Did he hate you already? It seemed like he didn’t even want to look at you, let alone be in the same room as you alone for any amount of time.

“You don’t have to, I can find--”

“Reid, come on, man. Do this one thing for me? As a wedding present.”

Reid’s attention drifted to Morgan.

“She’s a fast learner,” Manny promised, trying to help. He laid his hands on your shoulders and gave a little shake. “And she’s very nice, and your toes will only be slightly bruised from her.”

You gently elbowed him in the stomach and he laughed. 

Spencer seemed oddly perturbed at this exchange and looked away before you could meet his gaze. 

“Kid, please?” Morgan asked.

“Fine,” he said, though you could tell his entire being was radiating  _ no _ .

“Great,” Morgan grinned, patting Spencer on the back.

Your stomach dropped thinking of ways you could get out of this. There was no way you were going to this man’s house or anywhere to learn how to dance. He clearly did not want you anywhere near him, and you didn’t know why. You hadn’t done anything to him as far as you knew. Had he heard weird or embarrassing stories about you? You were at the disadvantage as clearly personal lives were not off limits to coworkers, but coworkers and work were off limits to you. Maybe he heard something about you before you’d even met that he didn’t like or approve of. Morgan could probably sense what you were thinking, but he didn’t say anything in that moment.

“Alright, now exchange numbers and set up a date,” Morgan said, as if to children. 

You sighed and reached for your phone. You set up a new contact window and handed your phone to Spencer. He seemed to hold his breath and touched your phone with the least contact possible as if it might infect him. He quickly typed in his details and handed the phone back to you, careful not to touch your hand. 

You texted the number and it went off in his pocket. 

“You got mine now,” you said. “Happy?” you asked Morgan.

“Thrilled,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes and stuffed your phone in your pocket. You had been so excited to come to the house and start planning all the renovations, but now you were uncomfortable and dreading the future dance lessons.

You looked at Spencer out of the corner of your eye. He was still looking at the floor. He seemed uncomfortable, like his clothes were too tight and the air was too hot. Why did you make him so uncomfortable? You sighed, giving up on the train of thought.

“Well, good luck with everything,” Spencer said suddenly, looking at Morgan. “It was, um, great to see the house. Can’t wait to see what you do to it.”

“Thanks for stopping by, Reid. I wanted you to see it before the magic happens.”

Spencer smiled genuinely at him, and you could see that he truly did care about Morgan in that glance. He seemed just as excited as you for this house. 

But his smile dropped when he turned to you. 

“Um… Nice to meet you,” he said, almost nervously, like he wasn’t sure that was the right thing to say. “I guess text me?” he didn’t meet your gaze. “Manny,” he said. “Nice to meet you too. See ya, Morgan,” he said, only managing to make eye contact with your childhood friend.

“Bye, kid,” Morgan smiled as if he knew something you didn’t.

Spencer left with a terse nod, and the three of you were left alone. After you were sure he was gone, you exploded. 

“What the fuck, Morgan?” you exclaimed. “Dance lessons? That guy hates me, why would you do that?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Morgan said, as if the thought were ridiculous. He started making his way to the kitchen. “Why would you think that?”

“He didn’t shake my hand, would barely look at me, tried anything to get out of the lessons idea…”

“So did you.”

“Because I could tell he didn’t want me anywhere near him! What did you do, tell him about the time I farted in front of your family so loud it woke your grandpa up when even banging a pot wouldn’t?” 

Manny burst out laughing behind you. You threw a grin his way before returning your anger to Morgan. Morgan chuckled.

“No, but I might now.”

“Seriously, dude, what’s his problem with me?”

“There’s no problem, he’s just a little quirky.”

You shook your head. 

“Whatever, what’s the kitchen plan looking like?”

You talked with Morgan and Manny about the plan for the house, but inside you were thinking of all the excuses you could use to get out of lessons with Spencer. You could simply hire someone else, attend actual classes, claim to be sick for a while? You didn’t really have the extra cash to pay someone to teach you. You could just claim that you were doing it and then try YouTube as he’d suggested. Though you doubted dances met for two would be well practiced with only one. You also doubted Manny would go for helping you, as he hated anything remotely like dancing.

“Skates,” Morgan called, when you’d zoned out too long. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Stop thinking of ways to get out of the dancing and focus on the wallpaper.”

You scowled at him and stuck out your tongue but he just laughed. 

“I want photographic proof by the end of the week that you’ve started learning,” he warned.

“Or what?” you threatened. 

“Or… I make him my best man,” he shrugged. You gasped.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me,” Morgan said. “I really need you to do this,” he added. “Savannah’s parents are already not thrilled we did the whole kid before marriage thing. I have to at least present a cohesive group of associates.”

“Cohesive group of associates sounds like a great band name,” Manny interjected. 

“Not helping,” you rolled your eyes. 

“I get it,” you sighed. “But why him?”

“Because his mom was also quirky and made him take lessons since he was four,” Morgan laughed. “He’s the best teacher I know. And the cheapest,” he added.

You groaned. 

“Text him now, set something up,” he said. 

“It’ll be fun,” Manny said, trying to cheer you up. “You’ll learn a new thing! Maybe make a new friend.”

You looked at him with an  _ are you kidding me? _ look and he shrugged. 

“Fine,” you muttered. 

_ Hey, when do you want to get this over with? _ You texted Spencer.  _ Let me know what works best for you. Sorry in advance for any toe squishing. _

You sent it off and put your phone back in your pocket, only to hear it ding a moment later.

_ Saturday at 1pm? _

That was two days from now. 

_ Works for me. Just send your address, or let me know if you want to do it at my place. _

You waited for a moment, and he texted back with his address. You shifted uncomfotably on your feet. You’d be at his place, not even the comforts of your own home to make you at least somewhat grounded. Being in a new place with a guy who didn’t want you there was sure to make your anxiety peak. Maybe you’d have a sip or five of whiskey before you went…

“Skates!” Morgan snapped. “Ready?” 

He looked amused at your anxiety and you frowned, looking at the wallpaper. 

“We should probably tear everything off the walls first,” you suggested. “Go walls then rip up the floor, tear down the wall.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Morgan agreed. “Might add some new countertops too if you’re up for it.”

“Always.”

You were able to get all the wallpaper down off the kitchen walls and start sanding. It was hard work, as whoever had put the wallpaper on back in the day had used a lot of glue. Underneath, however, you found it to be quite a nice wall, and with some more sanding and a good primer, it would hold the paint well.

You started on the living room, but didn’t get far before the three of you wanted to call it a day. Tim and Ryan were scheduled to start the day after tomorrow when Morgan wouldn’t be there, and you were looking forward to having the extra hand.

The days were long and arduous, but you were grateful for the physicality. It kept your mind off the looming dance lesson day. You were dreading it with every cell of your body. Why was Morgan so insistent on this man being the one to teach you? You couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable you made him and how that made you feel. You weren’t sure you’d felt that way before about anyone, that you’d had that effect on anyone before. Maybe in small doses - an ill-timed joke, or a graphic story - but never so consistently and seemingly without reason.

Before you knew it, it was Saturday, and you found yourself standing outside his door. You couldn’t make your fist move to knock on it. Why were you subjecting yourself to this? Morgan. You would do anything for that man, goddamnit. Sighing, you knocked on the white door.

You heard some shuffling and a locking turning before the door actually opened. 

To your surprise, he looked you in the eye and attempted a smile as you walked in. 

“Hi,” he said cautiously. His hands were wringing together as if washing themselves in invisible water.

“Hey,” you answered. You couldn’t stop yourself from stealing a glance or two around his place. 

It was dark, almost all the curtains drawn with a few lamps here and there spreading some soft yellow light around. The main component of his possessions seemed to be books. They lined countless shelves and littered almost every surface of the place. You saw quite a number of takeout menus on his counter and briefly wondered if he ever cooked for himself.

“Um, so,” he breathed, swallowing hard. 

“Oh, we should take a picture,” you said, speaking before you forgot. “Morgan said he wanted photographic proof.”

Spencer almost smiled and nodded. You went to move beside him and immediately saw him stiffen, drawing into himself. Trying to ignore it, but also respecting what space you could give him while still being in the same frame, you made a face for the camera. Spencer’s lips were tightly drawn into a forced semi-smile, while you gave Morgan the finger and a cheesy grin.

You only stayed next to him for as long as you needed to take the picture and then immediately stepped away.

Slipping your phone into your pocket, you suddenly felt the silence fill the room. You pressed your lips together in a tight line, wondering if you were supposed to start. He should, right? He was the teacher. Still, he seemed at a loss as to where to begin. 

“So…” you started. “What are we learning first?”

He seemed to brighten at the direction and clasped his hands together. 

“I think the waltz is a good place to start,” he said. 

“One two three, one two three,” you said. “I know  _ of _ it,” you laughed nervously. “But I have no idea about the actual steps.”

“ In the 19th and early 20th century, numerous different waltz forms existed, including versions performed in ¾, ⅜, and 6/8 time,” he said. 

You blinked, wondering if he’d actively researched before the lesson, or if he just knew that. Either way, it was somehow endearing.

“Cool,” you laughed. “I think the most common one of this century would be good?”

Spencer nodded not quite getting that you had made a small joke, and not quite meeting your gaze. He came to stand beside you, leaving about three feet of space between you. 

“Ok, so it starts with two feet together.”

You stood as you were and awaited further instructions. 

“Alright then left foot forward, and bring your right foot up and to the right after that.”

You followed, vaguely recalling things from films you’d seen.

“And bring your left foot to stand next to it,” Spencer directed. He followed along with you and his own instructions. You watched, making sure that you followed his movements and his words.

“Okay, and then right foot back, and left foot sort of back to the left, same as you just did with going forward.”

You followed the easy instruction and ended up where you started.

“Those are the basic moves, so let’s try it again.”

You nodded and easily completed the square. 

“Good, good,” he mumbled. “It’s easy, really. Let’s do it in time.”

He counted off and you easily maneuvered through the steps next to him.

“Good,” he said. It felt like he was trying to rush through this, to get you out of his house knowing a basic waltz as soon as he could. You wondered again what it was about you that made him so unwilling to be around you. Did you smell? Were you mean? 

“You’re a good teacher,” you said softly, trying your theory. Maybe he thought your jokes and sarcasm were serious. You tried to make an effort to sound sincere, and you were.

He blinked and actually looked at you. 

“T-thanks,” he muttered, before returning his gaze to the floor. 

You noticed, then, that he was sweating. He was wearing a similar outfit you’d seen him in at the house, and you wondered why, on this quite warm day, he hadn’t chosen a t-shirt and shorts as you had.

“We can try it in the rotation now,” he added. 

You followed him, watching as he gracefully slid through the steps while rotating in a square. 

“I think I got it,” you said, following in your own, slightly less graceful way.

“Good,” he nodded. 

Were you actually going to learn how to dance a partner dance on your own? You were sure it would feel different with a partner, but you didn’t want to force him to touch you. You quickly sniffed to make sure you didn’t smell, and thought you seemed okay. Had Morgan told him something and not admitted it? Maybe he just didn’t like you. That was fair, you felt that way about some people you had just met too. You just couldn't figure out why it bothered you so much.

When you’d done another rotation, you turned to him. 

“Hey,” you said, waiting until he met your gaze. “Are we going to… practice, like together?” You waited to see if his features changed. His lip twitched upwards, as if he wanted to smile, but he didn’t. “It’s just… learning the steps is great, but… you know… probably different when you’re against another person?”

He nodded quickly and swallowed, wringing his hands together. 

“I mean we… can, I don’t… see… Yeah, um… Sure,” he muttered. 

“Are you… I mean we don’t… Do you mind?” you felt the awkwardness contagious. 

Spencer cleared his throat and shook his head.

“Sure, um no I don’t mind.”

He took a step towards you and held out his hands, one higher and one lower. You could see he was still sweating and his hands were shaking as he held them out. Why did you make him so nervous? Was he really that repulsed by you? The only way you could see yourself being this nervous would be with a gross guy that was forcing you to dance with him. Still, he had said okay, and you needed to learn.

You stepped toward him and lifted your arms. You hadn’t realized the shirt you’d worn was so short, it rose to reveal your midriff as you placed one hand around the back of his neck and the other in his hand. 

You saw his eyes widen slightly and then draw to your entwined hands. Surprisingly, his palms were dry and the shaken lessened a bit when your hands clasped together. He was warm, and you felt surprisingly comfortable. His hand ghosted along your exposed skin before rising higher and almost landing, though not quite, on your mid back.

Flashing back to your high school dances, you had definitely left room for Jesus. Spencer stood almost with his butt out, as if trying to get around something between you leaving the most space possible.

You sighed slightly and tried to focus on the purpose of this visit: learning to dance. This wasn’t about getting Morgan’s coworker to like you, this was about a skill you needed to know to make your friend look good.

“O-okay,” he said, his voice sounding strained. “Let’s try just the basic step again.

You nodded and completed a square with him easily. 

“Hey, I didn’t step on any toes!” you announced happily. 

He actually, genuinely, smiled, and it caught you off guard. It was… beautiful. He had a really nice smile. You stared for a moment too long, and he caught you, looking slightly confused. 

“Um, anyway, and then maybe with a rotation?” he asked.  

“Yeah,” you blushed.

He took a tiny step closer to you, and you tried again. It worked better with him closer, but you were sure if you asked him to try stepping closer it would freak him out, so you just practiced as if there was someone in between you the entire time. 

After a few rotations, you got it down, and once he was sure you knew what you were doing, he stepped back and dropped your hand and returned his hands to his pockets.

“Thanks,” you said. “That was actually, kind of fun.”

He looked surprised and almost smiled. 

“You’re a fast learner,” he admitted. 

“I think that’s probably good for today,” you said, noting that the sweat had not ceased to form on his brow and the amount of times he had wrung his hands and tensed his lips were among the high twenties.

“So, just let me know what works for you,” you added. “Whatever you think is most important to learn and whenever you want to do it.”

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed, and you wondered if he dreaded it. After getting this over with, you found that it wasn’t as bad as you had thought. If you could just figure out what you were doing to make him so uncomfortable, you could stop it, and maybe things would be easier. You told yourself that if it was still like this the next time you met, you’d just ask. 

You grabbed your bag and looked back at him. 

“Thanks again,” you offered, and noted his decidedly more relaxed features as you made your way to the door.

He looked like he was about to say something, but he forced a smile and nodded as you closed the door behind you.


	3. Chapter 3

When you got home, Morgan texted you back. 

_ How’d it go? _

Should you answer honestly? Your stomach was still twisting with nervousness. You’d never met anyone who made you feel so… strange. It was like you wanted to be around him but you didn’t want to cause him any pain, which you were so obviously doing.

_ I can waltz now, so, you’re welcome. _

It took him a second to reply.

_ I am in your debt. Keep it up, I know Savannah’s family are big dancers. _

You rolled your eyes.

_ Fine, but you owe me. I think he really hates me. _

You were waiting for a text back for a while before he answered.

_ He doesn’t hate you. Trust me. Just nervous about new people. _

You shrugged. You got it, you were nervous too meeting anyone. Still, you didn’t sweat and avoid their gaze and stutter. Whatever. You only had to get through a couple more dance lessons, say hi at the wedding, and then never hang out with him again.

Morgan called you later that night, and you picked up, surprised.

“Hey, Ginger Rogers,” he greeted cheekily.

“What,” you answered flatly, smiling at his snickering.

“Just wondering what you’re up to tomorrow. Got a couple hours free?”

You had planned on taking the day off tomorrow before Tim and Ryan came up the next day to start helping on the house. 

“Yeah, what’s up? Going to make me learn how to ride a horse or something?”

“No, silly girl, just wanted to see if you wanted to come with me to the FBI and see my team.”

Your stomach clenched. Was he serious? It had been your dream since he’d joined the FBI to meet who he worked with, but he had never let you in on even the slightest peak into his life. You figured since he was now retired and you were going to meet them at the wedding anyway, some of his resolve had weakened.

“Yeah!” you tried not to sound overly excited. 

“Okay, great,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”

“Sounds good.”

You hung up and smiled. You considered yourself a Morgan expert, having known him basically his whole life, but this was the one dark area. You almost couldn’t sleep that night with the anticipation of the next day. The best part about it was that you doubted Spencer would be there. He had said he taught most of the time, so you thought it unlikely that he’d be with the rest of the team at the building.

You finally got to sleep pretty late, but you had set an alarm to wake up early and get ready. You made sure to look your best. You wanted to give Morgan’s friends a really good first impression just in case he’d told them any embarrassing stories about you, but also just because entering a group of profilers was bound to be intimidating and you wanted to feel confident.

You decided on a tight tank top and a high waisted skirt. It accentuated your assets in all the right places while still looking semi-professional. You went with flats and curled your hair, doing your makeup a little more formal than usual.

When you were ready, you still had some time to kill, so you picked up a book while you waited for Morgan’s text that he was here.

Around ten, you got the text and tried (and failed) to stop yourself from running down the stairs to meet him. You regained your composure as you opened the car door.

“Morning,” you greeted. 

“Morning,” he smiled. “You look nice.”

“Shut up.”

“Trying to impress someone?”

“Try everyone,” you said. “Your team is huge and I only get one first impression.”

“They’ll love you,” he said, pulling into the street. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered, unconvinced. 

You drove and made easy conversation as you made your way to the FBI headquarters. It was only about a half hour away and you quickly saw the building looming in the distance. You followed Morgan and went through security, getting your visitor badges easily.

You followed him up an elevator and, as the door opened, you saw a large set of glass doors protecting a bullpen of desks. There were a few people standing around, and you wondered if they were part of the team, or just other agents. 

Leaning against a desk was an asian man, arms folded across his chest, laughing. In the seat in front of him sat a hispanic man, gesturing largely with his arms. Two blonde women were chatting on a small set of stairs towards the back of the room. 

As you opened the door, an older Italian man and a woman with black hair stepped out of an office and into the bullpen. The closing of the glass doors drew the attention of everyone, and it was one of the blondes - the one with red rimmed glasses and a floral dress - that made the first move. 

“Morgan!” she nearly screamed, rushing over to your friend and wrapping him in her arms. 

To be honest, this was not what you were expecting when you entered a government building. She released him from the hug and turned to you. 

“And you must be (Y/N)!” she smiled wide. Before you could protest, she wrapped you in a hug just as tight and enthusiastic. Morgan laughed at your stunned face.

“Uh, yeah,” you laughed. 

“You’re right, Reid, she is pretty,” she said.

It was then, out of the corner of your eye, that you realized you’d missed something. It was not only a black haired woman and Italian man that came out of that office. Spencer was also there. He had his hands in his pockets and was crossing the room to stand next to the other blonde.

He stopped mid step when he heard this, and his eyes met yours, widening slightly. His whole face flushed and he instantly snapped his gaze to the floor and walked over to the blonde.

You were taken aback by this offhand comment from her. Had he really said that, or was she just teasing him? She had said it so matter of factly, like  _ You’re right, Reid, she is a female person. _ You blinked, recovering and smiled at her. You didn’t know what to say, but luckily, Morgan stepped in to help you.

“Alright we got Penelope Garcia, right here,” Morgan pointed at the blonde who had hugged you. “We got Emily Prentiss, David Rossi,” he pointed up the stairs, “Matthew Simmons, Luke Alvez,” he went around the room. “And then there’s JJ,” he said. “And you know Reid.”

You could see him visibly stop breathing when you looked at him. You gave him a friendly smile and he mustered a small one back. Everyone else smiled openly at you and seemed happy they’d met you.

“Tara’s out today, but you’ll meet her soon.”

“It’s so great to meet you,” Emily said, walking down the stairs. She walked up to you and shook your hand. 

“We’ve heard plenty of stories.”

“Yikes,” you grimaced.    
“No, all good, I promise,” she laughed. 

“Mhm,” you hummed sarcastically, looking at Morgan’s smirk.

Rossi followed her and shook your hand as well. 

“The Great Skates,” he smiled. 

You blushed at your childhood nickname. It seemed unfair that these people should know so much about you, and you so little about them.

“I heard you like dogs,” Luke came up with a smile, his phone out. “This is Roxy.”

“Oh my god,” you grabbed his phone and looked at the most adorable German Shepherd you’d ever seen. “She’s so beautiful.”

He laughed and nodded. 

“She’s a cutie.”

“Is she coming to the wedding?” you asked, half serious. 

A glance from Luke to Morgan, and Luke rolled his eyes. 

“Nah,” he said. “But you can meet her if you’d like, just name a time.”

“Don’t think I won’t take you up on that,” you warned.

Matt stepped toward you next. 

“I don’t have any dogs to speak of,” he shrugged. “Just a couple kids.”   
“No one’s perfect,” you jested, he smiled. 

“I love your hair,” JJ said, “What kind of iron do you use?”

You smiled at the easy question and answered.

“Oh, oh, also,” Garcia walked back over to you. “I heard you’re quite handy?”

“You could say that,” you blushed. 

“Would you, could you possibly help me fix my wall? I may have possibly, maybe, kind of… put a hole in it.”

You chuckled and nodded. 

“No problem. You still got the paint?”

“Yeah,” she beamed. 

“Name the day.”

“Why didn’t you ask me, baby girl?” Morgan asked. 

“Because you’ve already got one baby to take care of,” she walked over and tapped his nose with her finger.

Reid made no move to greet you, for which you were thankful. Garcia had pulled out her phone and was looking at her calendar. 

“Ok, providing no crazy serial monsters want to ruin this, would you be around on Friday evening?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll bring everything, just have some paint ready.”   
“And some wine,” she winked. 

“Oh, I want in on that,” Emily raised her hand. 

“You got it. Wine and wall date happening Friday,” Garcia grinned.

You felt a warmness inside you, as you felt the acceptance from Morgan’s friends. It appeared that you had indeed made a good first impression, as three of them had already made plans to hang out with you, Spencer not included. 

“Well, should we give her the grand tour?” Rossi asked Morgan. 

“If you have the time,” he said.

“I always have time for pretty young ladies,” Rossi smiled at you.

Coming from any other man that would have grossed you out, but there was a kind of fatherly benignness to it that made you feel flattered and liked.

He even offered his arm like some kind of prince, and you chuckled, slipping your arm through his. 

“It was nice to finally meet all of you,” you said, making sure your gaze landed on Spencer, but he didn’t look at you.

“You too,” Luke smiled. 

You imagined he and the team probably felt like they knew you already based on how many stories it seemed Morgan had told them. You wished you felt the same. Still, you were comfortable enough to take Rossi’s arm, and let him lead you out of the room, Morgan trailing behind you.

Rossi lead you down the hallways of the building, pointing out interesting facts and telling you the function of each department. When you got to the basement, he showed you a little storage room. 

“This is where I started,” he said. 

“As a secretary?” you guessed. He laughed. 

“No, the BAU started down here. Right in this tiny room. We worked our way up,” he said proudly.

“Like the X-Files,” you muttered to yourself, much to the chagrin of Morgan.

Rossi chuckled.    
“I’d argue I have better hair than Mulder.”

“Quite right,” you smirked at him.

He lead you around a few more rooms, and you finally made it back to where you started. The team had dispersed and seemed to be working, so you stopped Rossi outside the glass doors. 

“Thank you so much for the tour,” you said. 

“Anytime, my dear,” he smiled, patting the hand that lay on his arm. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Same,” you grinned. “We’ll see you before the wedding, I’m sure.”

“I’ll make it a point to,” he said. 

He left your arm and waved at Morgan as he walked through the doors. 

“So, what’d you think?” Morgan asked. 

“Amazing,” you said, feeling the excitement in your eyes. 

He laughed. 

“Thank you,” you added seriously. “I know it’s hard for you to let me in on this stuff.”

He nodded and pulled you into a hug. 

“I think the worst part was keeping you out, even though it was for the best. But now that it’s over… at least you can see the best parts of it.”

He turned to look at the scene behind the glass door, and you, still half hugging him, followed his gaze. The team. You could tell they were a family unit just by looking at them. 

“They’re so nice,” you remarked. “I don’t know how you guys do what you do and still come out with the ability to smile.”

Morgan sighed. 

“It takes practice,” he admitted. Then, less seriously, “When’s your next dancing lesson?”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “I don’t know, I’ll text him.”   
“Just go ask him,” Morgan said, his brows furrowed. “He’s right there.”

“Ugh, fine,  _ mom _ ,” you teased. 

You dreaded doing so, but you walked through the doors and over to the coffee station where Spencer was talking to Garcia.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“How was your tour?” Garcia asked, excited. 

“Great,” you smiled. “Um, hey so when are we getting together next?” you asked Reid. 

His cheeks filled with color as if you’d asked him what kind of underwear he wore to bed. He glanced at Garcia as if she might have the answer.    
“Doesn’t matter,” he finally said. “Maybe Saturday?”

“Works for me. Evening?”

“Sure.”

He managed to meet your eye, but his hand wound around his mug handle so hard his knuckles were white.

“Cool,” you said. “Hey, have Morgan text you my number so we can get together for the wall party,” you smiled at Garcia.

“Will do,” she nodded with a huge smile.

“Bye,” you waved to both of them, receiving only a wave from Garcia. 

When you turned your back, you thought you heard the jangling of her bracelets followed by the sound of her hitting Spencer.

You followed Morgan back out into the car and he dropped you off at your apartment. You got a text about an hour later from Garcia giving you her details for Friday.

The following day, you met Tim, Ryan and Manny at the house. You started the huge task of taking all the wallpaper down and sanding the walls to get the persistent glue off. It was a long day, and you were about halfway done with all the wallpaper in the house by the end of it. It was starting to get warmer, and you dreaded the coming times when your shirt would be soaked by the end of the day.

You found you liked working with the guys on this project. Where you had worked before, you hadn’t been the boss, and there’d been more guys around. Here, it was just the four of you, and you could joke and have fun, but still get the work done. They made fun of you, and you of them, you talked while you worked, learning about Ryan’s husband and and Tim’s cat’s health problems. Manny you already knew pretty well, but you learned that his grandma was recovering from hip surgery and he drove down about an hour every weekend to check on her.

The week continued on in this fashion. You’d arrive at work early, scrape some wallpaper, tear up some floorboards, work all day, and then come home at night and collapse. 

One of the benefits of being the boss was you got to decide the work hours. 

“Half day today, guys?” you asked. You didn’t want to jip them of their pay, but you also didn’t want to be a gross, tired, mess by the end for your wine and wall party.

“Sounds good to me,” Manny grinned. “I can get a head start on traffic to see Nana.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tim agreed. 

“Yeah,” Ryan smiled. 

“Cool,” you grinned. 

You worked until around noon and headed to your cars. Tim and Ryan waved as they drove away. You had your hand on your door when Manny spoke.

“Oh, forgot to ask you how your dancing lessons went,” he said. 

You made a face and he grimaced.

“That bad?”

You shrugged and huffed. 

“I mean… I don’t know, do you ever just get someone who just doesn’t like you?”

“Never,” he feigned indignity. Then, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, of course. Sometimes you just can’t help it. You can’t please everyone.”   
“True,” you conceded. “Hopefully there’s only a few more dances to learn.”   
“Godspeed,” he saluted you as he walked to his car. 

You got in and drove to your house. Garcia had provided you with an address, and told you to be there around dinner so she could treat you to a meal for your service. You made sure to look presentable, getting all the drywall dust and flooring materials out of your hair and out from under your nails. 

You made your way over with your tools in hand, ready to fix the wall for her. When you arrived, you were overwhelmed by her place. There was just so  _ much _ . Little trinkets lined every possible surface. The walls were mostly gray, but with splashes of color on accent walls in each room. There were fresh flowers and plenty of candles, and soft jazz music was playing. Emily was already there, glass of wine in hand. She was wearing a less professional outfit than you’d seen her in before, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Garcia was similarly dressed with a fake flower in her hair. She beamed when she opened the door to you.

“Come in, come in,” she beckoned.

“Wow, this is quite a place you’ve got here,” you marveled. 

“Welcome to mi casa,” she bowed. “This is my humble abode, and my humble hole in the wall.” 

She walked you over to the wall in her kitchen. 

“Yikes,” you flinched. It was a half moon, about five inches across. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Um, well, no,” she said, pushing her glasses on her nose. “I… Let’s just say… it was an unfortunate incident with a crockpot.”

“I’ll say,” you said, checking out the damage. 

“Can you save her, doctor?” Garcia asked. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “It’ll take a few hours.”

“We have enough wine for days,” Emily said, sounding slightly intoxicated.

You smirked and took the glass she presented you with. You took a sip before setting it down and laying out your tools. You took out the mesh you would be using to cover the hole along with the compound and your knife. 

“You’re amazing,” Garcia said at your minimal tool usage. “I love it. Girls can fix the world.”

“Amen,” Emily smiled, taking a sip.

“We could easily survive without men,” Garcia laughed. “Maybe excpet Morgan, just to have something pretty to look at.”

Emily laughed. 

“Eh, even then. We’d have women,” she shrugged. “Better looking than men in my opinion.”

“And nicer,” you said.

“Yeah,” Emily agreed. “It’s funny, in our line of work, it’s almost always men who kill. There are some women, but honestly, mostly men.”

“Not surprised,” you said. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” Garcia asked, pouring out more wine.

You made a noise that sounded almost like laughter.

“No,” you answered. “Also strange segway from murders to significant others.”

She shrugged and smiled. 

“I was curious.”

Then, sensing that they were waiting for an elaboration, you added, “I’m hardly ever interested in anyone. I find it hard to trust people, honestly. I have a lot of guy friends, but even they know I’m not about it most of the time.”

It was true, but hardly the real reason you weren’t seeing anyone.

Emily nodded knowingly and Garcia looked sincerely at you. 

“Yeah, I have some serious trust issues too,” she admitted. 

“Yeah?” you asked. You stopped your work to turn and look at her, sensing she was going to tell you something. 

“It does happen when your date tries to murder you,” she admitted. She said it playfully, so you weren’t sure if she were serious. 

“Wait… what?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” she answered. “Um, my date, thought I was close to catching him doing some shady stuff on the web, and he, um, shot me,” she said. 

“Oh my god,” you said. “I thought I had it bad.”   
“What’s your story?” Emily asked. And you could feel something between the three of you growing in that moment. Garcia had opened up to you, trusted you, and you had to do the same. 

“Oh, um… well I didn’t really move here for no reason,” you admitted. You took a deep breath. You hadn’t told many people this. “I… have a stalker,” you said. “We went on one date and he’s kind of… obsessed with me. It hadn’t gotten violent yet, but I wasn’t about to wait for it to do so. He started calling and texting all the time, and then he showed up at my house… which he shouldn’t have known where I lived. Morgan offered to look out for me here, said he knows a lot of cops in the area, stuff like that. So I moved.”

You turned back to your wall and began blending the compound in again. They were speechless, and you wanted to give them time to process.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Garcia sputtered. 

“How long has this been going on?” Emily asked. 

“A few months. I haven’t heard anything from him since I moved. Got rid of my social media and everything, so it’ll be hard for him to find me from halfway across the country.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than them.

“Give me his name and I’ll keep an eye out for him,” Garcia said fiercely. 

You turned and quirked an eyebrow. 

“Oh, I’m the technical analyst,” she added. “Computer stuff. I can make sure I know where he is based on his phone’s location, credit card purchases, stuff like that.”

Your heart soared for a moment in a swell of feminine affection. 

“That’s legal?” you asked. 

She and Emily shared a look. 

“It’s... fine,” she said carefully. “Just… don’t tell anyone.”

“Cameron James,” you said. You gave her the city you’d met in and where he had said he was from too. She wrote it down.

You put down your tools and hugged her. You felt the tears forming in your eyes and realized how unsafe you’d felt before this. It seemed too good to be true and you wondered if Morgan knew this would happen.    
“Thank you,” you said. Then, pulling away. “Whatever happened to the guy that shot you?”

“Dead,” Garcia said heavily. “Thank God.”

“Good riddance,” you said, sniffling a little. 

You took a breath and turned back to the wall. 

“It’s pretty much done, just need some paint.”

“Oh, I can take care of that tomorrow, let’s go collapse on the couch and eat some junk food, eh?”

“Sure,” you smiled. 

You followed her to her L shaped couch and sat down at one end, wine glass in hand. 

“So, you psyched to be the best woman for Morgan’s wedding?” Emily asked. 

“It’s an honor, really,” you said seriously. “I just didn’t realize it would be so much work.”

“Yeah, Reid mentioned teaching him how to dance. Apparently he’s quite light on his feet.”

“That’s my chocolate thunder,” Garcia smiled.

“He should be with all the running around we did as kids,” you laughed. “He’s so freakin’ agile, I was always jealous.”

“I can’t imagine Morgan as a child,” Emily marveled. 

“The awkward teenage years were the best. I have some good blackmail photos,” you said. 

“I will pay you good money for those,” Garcia said, semi-seriously. 

“Oh, I could start a bidding war, you bid to get them, Morgan bids to keep them hidden.”

They laughed and you found yourself truly enjoying their company. It wasn’t often you found yourself around new people, but you were grateful that they were nice ones. Not to mention, especially since bringing it up, you weren’t mad that you had some extra protection around should Cameron find out where you were. The nightmares you had of him finding you were enough, you didn’t need the reality.   
Just then, your phone buzzed. Looking at it, you saw a text from Spencer. 

_ Still on for tomorrow? Should we say four? _

You texted back that you were all set for then, and turned your attention back to the girls. You wanted to ask them what it was that made him dislike you so much, but you didn’t want to upset the good time you were having by complaining about something selfish. The conversation flowed about Morgan and how you’d grown up together, and then more into their lives and how they came to meet Morgan. You were happy that your friend had found such a nice family, and you were looking forward to finally being a part of it.

When the evening drew to a close around midnight, you fondly wished them well. Garcia promised to start the next day on tracking down Cameron’s whereabouts for you, and you felt a lot safer already.

Emily walked with you to your car and you hugged goodnight. You just hoped the following evening would be at least a tenth as pleasant.


	4. Chapter 4

You spent your day lounging around your apartment, lazily doing chores and reading. You went out to do some errands during the day, realizing you had no food in your house, and got enough stuff to meal prep for the week.

When the evening rolled around, you dreaded it. The summer heat was persistent,and you were sure that even with the air conditioning at his place, you would still feel that humid air. Adding that to having to move around, you opted for a crop top and some shorts, putting your hair in a messy bun and throwing on some sandals. You wanted as much airflow as possible.

You knocked on the door of his apartment, and he answered promptly, managing to meet your gaze and evening giving a welcoming greeting. His eyes seemed to scan your body and he blinked, clearing his throat and turning away from you for a second, as if preparing for something. 

“Hey,” you said, realizing you were slipping once again into the awkwardness you’d be unable to escape from. “Do I… Do you hate me for some reason? Did I do something?” you asked. 

Now it was you that was unable to look at him. You waited for his reply. Something like,  _ you smell weird,  _  or,  _ you’re mean _ . Morgan had told you he was technically a genius and you wondered if he thought you were just too stupid for him.

He sputtered what sounded like a laugh. You looked up, surprised. Why was he smiling?

“No,” he said, a little breathless. “No, I definitely don’t hate you. I… I’m sorry if it came off like that. I should have realized. No, I just… I’m not good at meeting new people, especially…”   
He looked for the words he wanted, but didn’t seem to find them. Shaking his head he finished, “Just with you being Morgan’s oldest friend and… wanting to make a good impression… I was nervous, I’m sorry if it came off negatively.”

You audibly sighed and felt your shoulders relax.

“Really?” you confirmed. You could feel the self-doubt in your voice and looked at him, realizing that he was really looking at you for the first time.

“Really,” he laughed. “You thought I didn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his neck. “I really didn’t mean to come off as distant, I just… I wanted to give you your space, I know it’s sometimes a little weird meeting friends of friends, I didn’t want you to feel like you had to talk to me or anything.” His eyes widened for a moment. “And you still don’t, obviously,” he added. 

You laughed, letting the rest of the nervous energy out. 

“Of course I want to talk to you,” you said. “You’re one of Morgan’s best friends, I want to know all about it. He’s never let me into this part of his life before so I want to know everything.”

He smiled softly for a moment. 

“So… friends?” you asked, holding out your hand. Then, realizing that he wouldn’t shake it, you started to retract it. “Sorry, forgot you don’t…”

He shook your hand and met your gaze. 

“Friends,” he nodded, and you saw something in his eyes that made you almost sad. It was like this was a surprise to him, that you wanted to be friends with him. Again you wondered what vibe you’d been putting out that said the opposite.

“Good,” you smiled. “So, I was hoping we could go over the waltz again, just to make sure I have it before moving on?”

He nodded, and a thought occurred to you.

“Oh and, um, I was wondering… Were we in the right positions last time? I just… I looked up some videos and they were all standing a lot closer, and they guy’s hands were sort of…”

You motioned to your lower back, “Here, rather than here,” you pointed higher where his hands had been. “But if what you taught me was traditional or something…”

“Oh,” Spencer blushed. “Yeah, I, um, I was too nervous to sort of ask… consent? I guess? I didn’t want to invade your space, but you asked me to show you, and…” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor for a moment. 

“Oh my god, no it’s fine, touch me wherever,” you said without thinking. Then you clasped a hand to your mouth and burst out laughing. His face turned even redder and he chuckled. “You know what I mean,” you smirked. He nodded. 

“Okay,” he said, taking a step towards you. He held out his arms. “Generally, you’re about this close.”

He tentatively slid his hand around your back, resting it on the small of your back, just above the line of your shorts. His hand ghosted for a moment before settling, as if silently asking again for permission. He took your hand in his while you slid your hand around the back of his neck. He stepped closer, and when you looked at him, you realized you were only inches apart. His tongue wet his lower lip and he swallowed before speaking.    
“Um, right, okay so,” he said, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “Remember the steps?”

“I think so,” you said, though you suddenly found it difficult to think. 

You were rarely this close to other people with the exception of Manny and Morgan’s hugs, and it was strangely nice. There was something surprisingly intimate about having nowhere else to look but Spencer’s eyes. His hand on your back felt nice, familiar. You felt safe, something you’d rarely felt with men since Cameron had betrayed that feeling.

“You do the steps we learned and I’ll mirror you,” he said softly. He broke the hold on your hand to reach into his pocket and tap something on his phone. Music started flowing out of a nearby speaker and you smiled. It was definitely a song to waltz to, and you were excited to try it out.

“And one, two three,” Spencer counted you off. 

You managed to correctly tell your feet where to go, but you did step on his foot once in the second square. 

“Sorry,” you cringed. 

“Didn’t even feel it,” Spencer promised. 

You continued to dance and spin, getting better and better with each rotation. For the beginning of the dance, Spencer kept his eyes on your feet, making sure you were doing the right steps and trying to give you tips where he could, but by about a minute in, you were getting it, and he lifted his gaze to your eyes. 

You couldn’t have been more glad you had asked him what was wrong. The smile he gave you was beautiful, and you could feel his hand relax into yours and his fingers soften against your back. There was something twisting pleasantly in your stomach anytime his hand moved along the sensitive skin of your back. The song ended, and you found yourself rather against the idea of stopping. Had it truly been so long that you hadn’t had real human contact? You seemed to crave it now. You reminded yourself to get some more hugs out of the people in your life.

“You’re getting good,” Spencer smiled. 

“So why did your mom make you take all these lessons?” you asked. 

“She wanted someone to dance with,” he smiled warmly. 

“And did you?”

“Still do, when I go see her,” he nodded. 

You didn’t press any more, not wanting to invade on his personal life too much too soon. 

“Nice,” you smiled. “So, what’s next?”

“Ballroom?” Spencer suggested.

“Let’s do it.”

“Alright, this one’s a little more complicated, it might be better if I just showed you?”

“Lead the way.”

He stepped closer to you, placing his hand on the small of your back again, this time more confidently, and held your other hand as he had before. He told you which foot to move where, and you slowly went through the steps of a basic ballroom dance style. You found the patterns easy to remember, and soon you were twirling around the room, music swirling around you, smiling into the eyes of a man you had, just this morning, dreaded to see. You were both sweating slightly with the movement, the air conditioning unable to keep up with the humid day, and you wondered why he had insisted on wearing a sweater. Albeit a light sweater, but still.

When he was confident that you had the steps down, he paused the music. You noticed that he was still quick to retract from you, and you wondered if he were still a little nervous.

The hour had gone by quickly, and you heard your stomach grumble. Had this been last time, before you decided to be friends, you would have just gone home and made some food. As it were, you wanted to keep the good vibes going, and decided to take a chance. 

“Hey, so want to get some food or something? All this has made me super hungry.”

He blinked in surprise and smiled. 

“Yeah,” he said. “That… That’d be good.”

“What are you feeling? Thai? Italian?”

“I could go for Thai,” Spencer smiled. 

“I know a great place, we can order and eat here if you want? Unless you wanna go out. I feel a little sweaty so I’d rather just stay here if you don’t mind.”   
“Not at all.”

You ordered the food and hung up, the order would be ready in around twenty minutes.

Realizing you’d only really been in his living room for these lessons and you hadn’t had a chance to look around, you started cautiously looking. There were so many books to look at, you lost yourself quickly in the shelves. It was basically a library. There were classics, textbooks, non-fiction, books of poetry, even books in different languages.

You suddenly had a crushing feeling of inferiority. Had he read all these? How many languages did he know? You counted at least three different languages on the shelves.

“Have you read all these?” you asked, realizing you had been silently staring at his walls for a few minutes. 

“Yeah,” he said, as if embarrassed. 

“Shit,” you muttered. “It takes me ages to read books. I just savor them and I don’t want them to end.”

He smiled and a small sense of wonder appeared on his features. 

“I can read pretty fast,” he admitted. “I kind of have an eidetic memory.”   
“What’s that?”

“It’s more commonly known as a photographic memory, I can remember everything I see or hear,” he said.

You stared blankly at him. 

“I barely remember what I had for breakfast. You’re some kind of superhero, huh?”

He blushed and looked like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. You turned your attention back to the walls of books.

“You have a favorite?” you asked. 

“Changes every day,” he laughed softly. 

“I know what you mean,” you smiled. 

You noticed several books by David Rossi on the shelves and picked one up. 

“Can I borrow this?” you asked. 

“Sure,” he nodded. “He’d be thrilled you wanted to read it.”

“Don’t tell Morgan,” you winked. “He’s been trying to keep me out of this stuff for years.”

“Well, don’t take one of my classes then,” he said. 

You perked up, a sense of mischief in your eyes. 

“Don’t give me ideas like that,” you smiled. “One of these days I might just have to audit.”

Spencer looked surprised and cleared his throat.

“I’m not sure you’d enjoy it,” he said. “I… I’m still learning how this professor thing works. I’m not always the smoothest lecturer.”

“Well, you’re welcome to practice on me,” you offered. “I took a few public speaking courses in high school, not that it ever went anywhere, mind you, but some of the stuff stuck with me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Spencer nodded. “Thanks.”

The knock at the door pulled you from your conversation. Spencer answered the door, and you grabbed your wallet. 

“That’s thirty-six, ninety,” the man said. 

“Oh, I got it, Spence,” you said, realizing for a moment that you’d just given him a nickname. Were you that comfortable with him already?

You handed the man forty bucks before Spencer could object, sliding in front of him to reach the door. The delivery man, probably ten years older than you and smelling of dirty dishes, leered at you, pausing as he took your bills. You could feel Spencer behind you, his body radiating warmth just inches away.

“Thanks, sweetie,” the delivery man said in a low voice, his eyes grazing down your body. You felt everything in you pull away from him. “Could I get a number with that cash?”

You rolled your eyes, and realized you felt Spencer tense behind you. Were you imagining his hand ghosting above your hip as if ready to pull you back? You shoved the money at him and took the food, forcefully closing the door. In doing so, you pushed your body back, accidentally knocking against Spencer. His hand landed on your hip to steady the two of you, and for some reason, you felt goosebumps where his hand lay on your skin. 

You turned quickly to face him, ready to apologize, and saw a brief flicker of anger in his eyes as he stared at the door. It was a brief second, and then he looked at you, concerned. 

“Well, let’s never order from there again,” you said in a huff. 

“I… I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “I should have said something, done…”

“No, it’s fine. Shit like that happens all the time to women,” you shrugged. “Unfortunately you get used to it.”

He pressed his lips into a fine line, and then, as if just realizing it was still there, took his hand off of your hip and quickly held it at his side. 

“Better be good food,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. 

Still, you could see the anger in his eyes. You wondered if he had some kind of thing against guys like that with everything he’d seen working as an agent. 

“Where should we eat?” you asked. There wasn’t really a dining table anywhere. 

“I usually just eat on the couch,” he motioned. 

You walked over to the couch, putting the food on the coffee table. He went to the kitchen, and you could see the tension in his shoulders. Why was he so worked up? Maybe he knew the guy or something? He grabbed two glasses and filled them with water before returning. 

You opened the food and felt your stomach rumble at the delicious smells. The plastic utensils were laid out and the two of you dug into your food.

“Do you know what kind of food Morgan’s planning for the wedding?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head. “I think Savannah’s largely taking the reins on the planning.”

“Good,” you laughed. “Morgan would probably just order steak and nothing else.”

Spencer laughed and nodded. 

“Did you ever think he’d settle down?” you asked. 

You’d known him your whole life and you didn’t see it coming. Spencer nodded, finished chewing, and answered.

“I think he’s changed a lot recently,” he said. “A lot of the cases he worked towards the end… They were different. I think all of us reach a point where we just can’t do it anymore. Where we have to just… actually live our life,” he said. He sounded nostalgic, but also hopeful.

“So now that you’re mostly retired, you going to settle down too?”

He nearly choked on the noodles he was eating and had to take several sips of water.

“I… I mean, yes, probably by myself.”

“No wife and kids in your plan?”

“Seems unlikely,” he said. 

“Ah, you want to sow your wild oats, eh?” you jested, teasingly pushing his arm with your elbow. He laughed, blushing.

“Um, no,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

“Not one for dating?”

“Not really,” he smiled softly. “Doesn’t seem to come up often.”   
“Oh, ‘cause you traveled so much and stuff?” you guessed. 

He looked confused, and you didn’t know why. 

“Erm, no,” he said slowly. “I mean, yes, but generally… I’m just… me?”

It was your turn to look confused. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“I’m not… what a lot of women are looking for,” he said awkwardly. He didn’t seem sad about it, and it didn’t even come off as self deprecating. He just said it as if it were a fact in one of his books.

“Um, you’re smart and nice and can dance,” you countered. “I think you underestimate yourself.”

He looked surprised and somewhat embarrassed. You thought about the woman who would be a good match for him. You imagined some gorgeous brunette who had read all the classics, spoke five languages, maybe played the violin or something cultured.

“What about you?” he asked. “Huband, kids?”

You shrugged. 

“I don’t think I’m what a lot of men are looking for,” you echoed. Thoughts of Cameron flooded your mind and you shivered. “At least… not nice men who can dance,” you added with a teasing smile. 

You found it surprisingly easy to be with Spencer suddenly, and you’d never been more glad to have confronted the awkwardness between you. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer almost whispered.    
“Well, it has been so far,” you shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining, I like being alone a lot of the time.”

Spencer nodded, looking almost sad.

“Well, at least we have each other,” you raised your glass to him. “Friends who will die alone together.” 

He laughed softly and clinked his glass with yours.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I’ve never… had a friend like you before. Not really any outside the FBI.”

You smiled and patted his leg gently before getting up. 

“I’ve never had a superhero friend,” you shrugged. “And now I have a ton! Morgan has been squirreling you all away from me for too long.”

The corners of his lips pulled up and he followed you to the kitchen to throw your takeout trays away.

“Alright, well, I should get out of your hair,” you frowned. Spencer looked like he might say something, but stopped himself. You walked to the door together.

“I had… a good time,” he said cautiously. “Thank you for dinner.”

“The least I could do,” you smiled. “Thanks for the dancing.”

As you were used to doing with your friends, you instinctually held out your arms for a hug. He balked, notably taking a step back as if you had jumped at him. You tried to pass it off as a stretch, realizing as you were doing so that you were failing, but you went with it anyway, adding a yawn for good measure. 

“Thanks,” you murmured. “Let me know when you’re available next.” You turned and put your hand on the door, feeling weird about the rejection. You had danced together, you weren’t sure why a hug wasn’t allowed. Maybe he just had different rules as a friend. You could respect that.

“Um, I think, maybe tomorrow?” he asked, sounding urgent and taking a step forward.

You turned and raised an eyebrow. 

“So soon?” you asked. “You’ll get sick of me at that rate.”

He let out a breath that almost counted as a laugh.

“I… I don’t think so,” he said, smiling almost to himself. 

“Alright, well, it’s up to you,” you said. “Same time?”

He nodded. 

“Yeah, same time.”

You smiled, not daring to try a hug again, and left, closing the door behind you. Quirky, you remembered Morgan saying. Maybe so, but you were glad at least now he was your quirky friend.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, Skates, what do you say to dinner with me and the family tomorrow?” Morgan asked over the phone as you entered your apartment.   
“I actually just made plans for dancing lessons,” you lamented. “Maybe lunch?”  
“Lunch could be arranged. Big day before you get back to work, eh?”  
“I’ll make the boys do all the heavy lifting,” you smiled.   
“That’s my girl,” Morgan laughed. “Let me just check with Savannah, I know she’s been dying to have you over again so I’m sure she’ll take the lunch option since you’re so popular.”  
You rolled your eyes and waited as he asked her.  
“Noonish?” he asked, confirming.   
“Sounds good to me.”  
“See you then,” he said, hanging up.  
You sighed and looked around your apartment. It was quiet, empty. You turned on the tv and fell asleep watching Netflix. You woke from a nightmare, sweating and nervous. After you calmed down, you wandered blindly to your bed and collapsed there for the remainder of the night.  
You cursed yourself when you woke up around ten. You showered and got dressed. You opted to look nice, as you still wanted Savannah to like you and knew she appreciated an effort. You put on a dress that was casual, but made you look really pretty, if you were being honest.  
You headed out to the liquor store. You wanted to bring something over, and you realized midway that wine was not really a lunchtime thing, nor a woman who had just given birth thing, so you changed route and headed to the grocery store to pick up some flowers and a nice fruit platter. You arrived around noon, and Savannah greeted you, her eyes bright and smile wide.   
“Welcome!” she beamed. “Oh my gosh, you didn’t have to bring anything. Those are beautiful,” she took the flowers from you. “Come on in, I have the lunch laid out.”  
You followed her and saw Morgan smiling at his son in the kitchen, bouncing him on his hip and watching him giggle. You stopped in your tracks at this. It was so… not unlike Morgan, but just… different. You weren't used to seeing him like this, with a family. It suited him. Both of them were glowing with happiness. Morgan noticed your entrance and tore his eyes away from his son.  
“Well well well, Ms. Popular makes an appearance,” he teased.   
“I literally only had one other thing to do today,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I’m making a world tour.”  
You walked up to him and hugged him, leaving room for the baby between you. Savannah quickly gathered everyone around the table, and she unwrapped your fruit platter after placing the flowers you’d brought into a vase.  
“So, are you guys ready for the wedding? What are we, a little over a month away?”  
“Forty days,” Savannah nodded. “We’re getting there. Got the dress, got the reservations for everything. Just a few things to tie up.”  
“Reservations at Chez Rossi,” Morgan smiled.   
“He offered to host wedding and reception as a wedding present,” Savannah smiled. “He’s really got the perfect place for it. His backyard is enormous and has the most amazing garden.”  
“And pool,” Morgan added. “Don’t forget a suit.”  
“Nice,” you smiled. “Well, I’m looking forward to it. I can almost promise I won’t lose the ring.”  
Morgan laughed.   
“Oh, that reminds me, did you find that remote?” Savannah asked.   
“It was way under the couch,” Morgan answered.   
They started talking between themselves about their daily lives, things they usually lost and then found again, mostly baby supplies, and you watched them. The way they worked as team, answered each other’s questions, were patient with each other. They were partners. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you might want something like that. But would you ever be able to try that again after Cameron? You thought about the way he constantly called you, texted you, showed up at your work, even harassed some of your coworkers to tell them where you were at all times. You cringed slightly. Would it be worth it to risk going through that again?  
You realized after a moment that Morgan had asked you a question, and it took you a minute to process what it had been.   
“The dancing lessons,” you repeated. “Oh yeah, they’re good. Spence says I’m a fast learner.”  
“Spence?” Morgan raised an eyebrow.   
“Is that… not his first name?” you asked, confused.   
“Just most of us call him Reid, or Spencer,” he shrugged teasingly. “But ok, Ms. Familiar.”  
“Relax, I’m not going to steal your other best friend,” you rolled your eyes. “We can share.”  
He smiled and it made you feel weird, like he knew something you didn’t.  
“Fair enough,” he said. “So you feeling confident then?”  
“I feel like I can dance the waltz and maybe some ballroom,” you nodded. “More practice tonight though.”  
“Awesome. I hope you’re enjoying it,” Savannah smiled.   
“Yeah, it’s fun. Definitely not something I would have picked on my own, but I like learning new things,” you said.   
You looked around their home for a moment and rested your gaze on one of the many framed photos of them as a family.   
“You know you guys are super cute right? Only thing missing is a dog.”  
“Maybe when he’s a little older,” Morgan smiled.   
“But I want one now,” you mimicked a child.   
“Go play with Luke’s dog,” Morgan laughed.   
“Oh!” you smiled. “I could! Give me his number actually, I told him I would take him up on that.”  
Morgan did as you asked and you sent a text to Luke, setting up a day to go for a walk as long as they weren’t on a case on Wednesday evening.  
“Oh, what time is it?” you asked, realizing that time had flown by eating and laughing with them.  
“Almost quarter of four,” Morgan said, surprised as well at the amount of time that had passed.   
“Shit, okay,” you said, and then cupped your hand to your mouth and looked apologetically at Savannah. “Sorry,” you laughed.   
“Ah, it’s fine,” she chuckled. “He’s heard far worse when he clamps down real hard on my boob.”  
She shrugged and you laughed, feeling better about your slipup.  
You made your goodbyes and rushed to your car, realizing you didn’t have time to go home and change before going to Spencer’s.   
You arrived a few minutes late and knocked on the door. He answered quickly and seemed to freeze when he saw you. His eyes took in your dress and he blinked, taking a step back to let you in.   
“Hey, sorry I’m a little late, I just came from Morgan’s,” you apologized.   
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Then, tentatively, “You look nice.”  
“Thanks,” you smiled. “Gotta woo the best friend’s future wife, you know? It’s make or break.”  
You walked in and turned around as he closed the door.   
“So, what’s first? Recap?” you suggested.   
“Sure,” he said.   
He flipped through his phone for a second and put the waltzing music on. You pretty much had this down by now and you stepped up close to him, your hands placing themselves on him, and his on you. You started dancing and you smiled.   
“We should go pro,” you teased. He gave a small smile.   
“I don’t think my knees could take it,” he admitted.   
“True, it would be a lot of exercise, and I’m not about that life,” you frowned. “Maybe we’ll stick to weddings then.”  
“I think that’s wise,” he answered. “How was the lunch?” he asked. It was almost experimental in tone, like he wasn’t sure if that was on okay question to ask.  
“Good,” you said. “Yummy. It’s nice to see Morgan so happy.”  
He nodded.   
“It’s about time,” he agreed.   
“Now he just needs a dog,” you laughed.   
“That would complete the image,” Spencer agreed. “I could see them with a german shepherd.”  
“I get to meet Roxy, speaking of, Wednesday,” you grinned. “So excited.”  
Spencer faltered for a moment, missing a step and causing you to bump into him a little bit.   
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m… getting lunch with Garcia Wednesday,” he offered.  
“It’s okay,” you laughed. “Serves me right for the time I stepped on your toes. And that sounds like fun!”  
He smiled half heartedly but the mood had changed for some reason.   
“You okay?” you asked, lowering your head to lift his gaze to yours.  
He blinked and shook his head as if clearing his mind.  
“Fine,” he said softly, as the song ended. “Ballroom?”  
“Yeah,” you smiled.   
For some reason his mood had dipped for a moment and you wondered if it was something you said. Maybe he had a bad memory with dogs? You shrugged and focused on not stepping on his toes again. As you finished the dance pretty smoothly, you pulled apart and he stopped the music.  
“Reminds me of when I was little and I used to put my feet on top of my dads and he would dance for the both of us,” you reminisced.   
He smiled softly.   
“What does your dad do?” he asked.   
“Oh, my parents have passed away,” you nodded.  
“Oh,” Spencer said. “I’m sorry.” Then, quietly, “My father and I are… estranged. My mother… she’s got schizophrenia?” he said, his tone asking if you knew about the disorder. You nodded. “And she’s in a home.”  
“You’re alone too,” you said softly. He nodded.   
“I get out and see her when I can but… It’s… hard.”  
You stepped forward and tentatively took his hand in yours. He flinched, but allowed it, and tried to hide his surprise at your movement.  
“It sucks,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. “Listen, if you ever need to talk about it… I’m a good listener,” you offered.   
“I wouldn’t put that on you,” he laughed mirthlessly, slipping his hand out of yours and sliding it protectively into his pocket.   
“That’s what friends are for, Spence,” you rolled your eyes. “And we are friends, right?”  
He looked at you for a moment before silently nodding.  
Your phone buzzed and you pulled it out.   
“Speak of the devil,” you muttered, opening a text from Luke. It was a photo of Roxy, it looked like she was smiling. “Oh my gosh,” you swooned. “Look.”  
You showed the picture to Spencer. He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked almost nervous for some reason.   
“Do you not like dogs?” you asked, trying not to sound judgemental.  
“Dogs are great,” Spencer said, enthusiastically. “Their sense of smell is ten thousand times better than a humans, and they can even be taught to solve simple math problems, not to mention helping with issues like depression and--”  
“Okay,” you laughed. “So you just don’t like Roxy?”  
“What gave you that impression?” he asked.   
“You fake smiled when I showed you the picture.”  
“You know what my real smile looks like?” he asked.   
“Duh,” you rolled your eyes.   
“Well, clearly not, because Roxy is great,” he said. Then, slightly softer, “I’m sure you’ll have a great time with Luke.”  
He didn’t meet your gaze and you couldn’t figure out why. Did he not like Luke? Maybe they didn’t get along, though Morgan hadn’t mentioned anything of the kind. You shrugged it off, deciding to wait until he said anything to deal with it.   
“What’s next?” you asked. “Or should we just practice some more?”  
You seemed to pull him out of some kind of reverie and he took a moment to respond.   
“We could tango,” he proposed. “I did teach Morgan, although I think you’re pretty safe just knowing the waltz and ballroom.”  
“I would love to tango,” you smiled. Taking a chance to make him smile, you pressed yourself against him, teasingly sliding your hand down his face. “Get me a rose,” you said dramatically.   
He blushed profusely and froze. You giggled, stepping back and giving him some space.   
“That's actually a common misconception,” he sputtered. “Rudolph Valentino did it while dancing the tango in the 1921 film "Four horsemen of the Apocalypse," but the authentic Argentinian dance doesn't involve a rose or any other flower, for that matter.”  
You smirked and tilted your head to the side, considering this man for a moment. He was just full of surprises.  
“You’re amazing,” you said, almost without your brain’s permission.   
This stunned him as equally as your actions had, and he had to shake his head again to recover.  
“That’s not what most people say,” he said, confused.   
“What do most people say?” you asked.   
“Shut up?” he laughed. You frowned.   
“Well, I hope you don’t listen,” you said. “Now, tango me, rose boy.”


	6. Chapter 6

Work on Monday and Tuesday consisted of actual construction and remodeling mixed with a new game Tim called “swan” in which the four of you would take whatever opportunity you could get (as long as no one was holding a power tool) to “swan” one another, as Tim called it. He found that if you lightly squeezed the side of someone, right above their hip, it tickled, and so he had started the game. Not that you were keeping track of points, but if you had been, you’d be winning. You snuck in those swan squeezes so sneakily, they started to look over their shoulders. 

“You’re so sneaky,  _ you _ should be in the FBI,’ Tim said, his mouth half full of sandwich.

“Thank you,” you beamed. “I’d rather be here with you guys, though.”

“We are pretty great,” Ryan smirked. 

“You are,” you laughed. “Really, you guys do great work, I’m really happy to have you.”

“Glad to be here,” Tim smiled. 

Ryan’s phone buzzed. 

“Ye old ball and chain?” Tim asked. 

“Hardly,” Ryan rolled his eyes. “It’s the love of my life, actually.”

“Um, I didn’t text you,” Manny joked. 

“Ha-ha,” Ryan mock-laughed. “It is my husband, thank you. Just checking in to see how my day’s going.”

“Damn, that’s nice,” Tim said. “I wish someone would do that for me.”

“How’s your day going?” Manny asked.    
“Shut up,” Tim said, throwing a napkin at him. “What about you? You got anyone asking how your day’s going?” he asked you and Manny. 

“You got me there,” Manny admitted. Tim looked at you. 

“Nah,” you shrugged. 

“We need to get out more,” Tim laughed. 

“No thanks, I’ll just die alone,” you shivered. 

“Nah, I’ll be there with ya, waiting for you to give me my last paycheck.”

“Yeah, see, I won’t be alone,” you laughed. 

Ryan put his phone away and went back to eating, and the four of you followed suit. 

You worked really hard Monday and Tuesday, getting enough done where you felt comfortable taking the day off on Wednesday for your hike with Luke and Roxy. It was hard not having a dog in your life, and you were really looking forward to meeting a new one.

Manny and the boys kept teasing you that you were going on a date, but you rolled your eyes at them, saying you were more interested in the dog than anything else. They thought you were kidding, but that was generally the case, and this didn’t seem different yet. 

They didn’t complain about a mid-week break, however, and gladly took Wednesday off as well. The time came for your hike, and you were glad the weather wasn’t very humid. You still opted for shorts and a tank top, pulling your hair out of your face, and making sure to pack enough water. You were going to hike a trail he knew well, and he promised the view would be worth the climb. 

You arrived a little before Luke at the nearly empty parking lot. It was during the weekday, so you assumed a lot of people would be at work. Luke had mentioned taking a few personal days this week, and you were happy he was spending one with you. Although Morgan hadn’t really worked with Luke, he was still part of the team and he saw him regularly. You still wanted to be friends with Morgan’s friends, and Roxy seemed like an added bonus.

You watched a black SUV roll into the parking lot, and saw a snout peering out of the cracked window. You smiled already and ran over to the car. Luke got out swiftly and walked over to you. 

“Hey,” he greeted, a huge smile on his face. He held his arms out for a hug and you happily accepted.

It was interesting, though. When you had been with Spencer, you had felt surprisingly alive when he had touched you, you thought you were starved for physical attention. Hugging Luke was nice, but it wasn’t quite the same. Maybe you had fulfilled your quota already that week. 

“Yeah yeah,” you jokingly pushed him away. “Dog, please.”

He laughed and opened the car door. A beautiful german shepherd got out and sat right at his feet, looking at him as if for permission to meet you. 

“Say hello,” Luke said gently to her. 

She held up her paw and looked at you. You nearly giggled and shook her paw.

“Nice to meet you,” you said. She panted. “I love her,” you said, standing up to look at Luke.

You felt a nudge near your hand and saw that she was trying to get you to pet her. You laughed and obliged. 

“She likes you too,” Luke said.    
“You sound surprised,” you smirked. 

“Usually she doesn’t do that,” he laughed. “You’re special.”

You gave her an extra affectionate pat and leaned down to give her a kiss. She kissed you in return, earning a laugh from Luke and a smile from you.

“You ready for the hike?” he asked. You nodded. 

“Lead the way,” you said, gesturing to the woods.

You started out on a trail. There was a slight breeze that made the weather bearable, and the trees more than shaded the path. It seemed like you were alone for the most part, and Luke let Roxy explore a little bit ahead of you, off leash.

“She’s really well trained, huh?” you noticed. She came exactly when Luke called and even instinctually checked in from time to time when exploring.

“Trained her myself,” He nodded. “Kinda my thing in the army.”

“What? That’s crazy awesome,” you said. “Did you enjoy it?”

He shrugged and nodded. 

“I did, yeah. Working with animals is really rewarding. I just wish some of the jobs I trained them for weren’t necessary.”   
You nodded sympathetically. 

“I bet,” you agreed. “Is Roxy a retired army dog or something?” you asked. 

You navigated around a rock that stuck out of the ground and were thankful you didn’t trip.

“I actually got her when I got back,” he said. “I was… having difficulty adjusting.”

“I can only imagine,” you sympathized.

“Roxy helped me though, gave me purpose,” he said.

“What a good girl,” you smiled at her. 

She stopped and turned around, waiting for you to catch up to her so you could pet her.

“Is it better now? With her?” you asked. Then, realizing it sounded a little too personal, you added, “Sorry, I’m just… Just curious.”

“No, it’s fine,” he smiled. “It is better for sure. Still adjusting, don’t think I’ll ever really stop to be honest. But she helps.”

You nodded and he looked at you for a moment. You shared an understanding then, even though you couldn’t imagine what he was dealing with, you listened and tried to understand, and he smiled.

“I bet she helps with the ladies, huh?” you winked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“Worked with you, didn’t it?” he joked. 

You rolled your eyes.

“Guilty,” you smiled. “I would literally marry a man if I loved his dog enough. Or if he gave me chocolate.”

“You hear that, Rox? We’re halfway there!”

You laughed. 

“Oh, I’m sold with just her,” you joked. “Let’s start planning the wedding now.”

And for a moment, your mind wandered. Was this a date, or some kind of pre-date? Or had he just meant that in jest? You wondered what it would be like, if you could be into Luke. You sighed, feeling a general ambivalence you almost always did. Perhaps in time, but you didn’t feel anything right now. Certainly no goosebumps or heart fluttering.

Your phone buzzed then, and you quickly checked to make sure it wasn’t Morgan with an emergency. It was Garcia, asking for photos of Roxy.

“Garcia’s jealous of my time with your dog,” you laughed. “She asked for a photo.”

“Do her one better,” Luke suggested. 

He pulled out his phone and Facetimed Garcia, making sure the camera was pointed at Roxy who sat by his feet.

“Oh my good golly gosh,” you heard Garcia say over the phone. “Hi baby!” she greeted the dog.

Luke flipped the camera so she could see you. 

“Hi humans,” Garcia said, slightly less enthusiastically. 

“Hi Garcia,” Luke said. 

“Oh, and Reid’s here with me,” she said. She pointed her camera at Spencer was sitting next to her. He looked slightly uncomfortable, and you strained to see him. You moved closer to Luke, putting your cheek almost against his cheek.

“You guys having a good hike?” Garcia asked, changing the camera back to her.

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“Oh, good news,” Luke said. “We’re gonna get married.”

You squeezed your cheek next to his and closed your eyes to sell it. You sputtered out a laugh and watched Garcia’s face turn from shock to realizing you were joking. You watched Spencer’s face too, although his was slightly more difficult to read. He was neutral, apparently having not enjoyed the joke. Maybe he really didn’t like Luke, or maybe he was just jealous you got to spend time with his friend who traveled a lot. You couldn’t tell, only that it wasn’t exactly a positive reaction.

“Well, as long as Roxy’s the ring bearer, I’ll come to the wedding,” Garcia joked. She looked at Spencer as if waiting for some kind of joke from him as well, but he just half heartedly laughed.

“We’ll let you get back to your lunch,” Luke said, flipping the camera back to Roxy. “Say goodbye,” he said. 

Roxy lifted her paw in the air and you heard Garcia squeal with delight. You signed off with a goodbye without turning the camera around. Luke pocketed his phone and the two of you continued your hike. He asked you about your life, how you got into remodeling, what you liked to do in your spare time. You answered easily, finding a comfortable flow of conversation. He was easy to be with, and friendly. You didn’t have any of the awkwardness you had with Spencer, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. When you reached the top of the trail, you were nearly breathless. The view, as promised, was spectacular. Roxy walked carefully to the edge of the cliff and looked over at the vast forest beneath. The trees were all green, growing with new life and the sun was peeking out over the clouds, illuminating the earth below.

“Wow,” you said, walking to the edge. “You weren’t kidding.”

You turned around and saw he was on one knee. Before he could even make the joke proposal, you were laughing, and he got caught into it too, rising up and hugging you while you laughed for a moment. 

“I can’t believe Morgan hid you guys from me for so long,” you shook your head. “I mean I know you didn't really work with him but like, as a principal. Good thing he’s actually getting married,” you said. “Otherwise I wouldn't have met any of you guys.”

“Well, it’s really great to meet you too,” Luke said softly. “I know everyone thinks you’re great, even just from how Morgan talks about you.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. “We’ll have to do something as a whole unit,” you said. 

“Yeah,” Luke smiled. “That sounds good. Like a game night or something.”   
“Yeah!” you exclaimed. “That sounds amazing.”

You stood together, looking out over the forest for a moment. Everything was perfect. You were there with a new friend, a great dog, and nature. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, embracing this rare inner peace. When you had had your fill, you and Luke made your way down the trail. Conversation was still easy, but you were starting to feel tired. Your legs complained and you could feel the dried sweat on your back. When you made it to your cars, Luke put Roxy in his after you kissed her goodbye. 

“Thanks for a great day out,” you smiled warmly, holding out your arms for a hug.

He did hug you, and it was tighter than you’d expected. He leaned back a little, almost lifting you onto your tiptoes.

“And let me know if you ever need a dog sitter,” you offered. “I’d be happy to take her!”

“I will have to take you up on that,” he smiled. He looked at you for a moment and then stepped back. “Did you want to go get food or something?” he asked. 

“Aw, that’s okay, I kind of just want to go shower, and I have literally a mountain of laundry to do,” you said regretfully. 

“Okay, another time then,” he smiled. “Drive safe,” he said, and waved.

You waved back and got into your car. You drove home and thought about your day. You had had a lot of fun with Luke. It had almost seemed like he had been interested in you, and you didn’t know what to make of it. He was certainly nice, and definitely handsome, but there was a component missing there that you couldn't quite name.

You realized you hadn’t set another meeting with Spencer to practice dancing, and you texted him as you were making dinner.

_ Hey, when’s our next lesson? _

You didn’t get a response for a few hours and figured he was probably working. You almost forgot about it until he texted you back.

_ I think I’ve taught you everything you need for the wedding. _

You frowned. That was all you needed? It made sense, but you still wanted practice.

_ Should we still practice? _

A quicker response this time. 

_ Up to you.   _

_ Well at least let me say thank you by making you dinner _

He waited a while to respond this time, and you thought he might not respond. Maybe he didn’t really want to be friends with you and he was just being nice. Maybe he wanted an out now that his obligation was fulfilled. 

_ You don’t have to do that _

_ I want to. Is everything ok? _

_ Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? _

_ Idk you seemed off today, and now you don’t wanna hang out. Are you scared of my cooking? _

You wondered if you should joke or if something really was wrong.

_ Just tired. Not scared of your cooking, when should I come for dinner? _

You frowned at the excuse. That was what people said when they didn't want to talk about something. You were determined to get it out of him. 

_ Friday @ 6 _ .  _ Bring your appetite. _

He confirmed the time worked for him, and you went to look up some recipes to make. You liked to cook but found it hard to cook for just one without being wasteful of fresh ingredients. This would give you time and opportunity to get creative again in the kitchen.

The rest of the week went by quickly with long days spent at Morgan’s house. He stopped by a few times to check on the progress. You’d gotten the walls ready to paint, and were almost done tearing up what floors needed remodeling. 

When Friday came around, you made sure that you started the meal before Spencer came over. He’d never been to your place before, you hoped the smell of good food would make him feel at home. Your place was small, with a narrow kitchen, barely room for one in there. Over the counter that acted as one of the walls to the kitchen, was the dining room table, sitting four if you wanted all your placemats to touch. Next to that was a small living room with a couch and a recliner, the tv mounted on the wall. Your bedroom was just beyond that with the bathroom connected. You had made sure to clean up your room in case he needed to use it. The last thing you needed was him finding a tampon or some old socks hanging around.

When he arrived promptly at six, you answered the door in your cooking apron. You ushered him in and told him to make himself comfortable. He sat at the kitchen counter and watched you cook. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said. 

“You gave me free lessons, and now I won’t completely embarrass myself at my friend’s wedding,” you explained. “I owe you my life.”

Spencer chuckled and shrugged. 

“Anything for a friend,” he said. You stopped stirring the curry and smiled at him. 

He seemed better than he had over the phone, and for a moment you wondered if he really was just tired that day.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” you asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you like Luke? I thought you guys were all friends.”

His brow furrowed and he tilted his head to the side. 

“Why would you think I didn’t like Luke?”

“You freeze up whenever he’s mentioned or seen,” you said. “I assume that means you don’t like him? That’s what I do around people I don’t like anyway.”

He laughed nervously and shook his head. 

“Luke is a great guy,” he said, as if admitting something he’d rather not. “The best.”

You were thoroughly confused. 

“So… you really were just tired?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. 

And for a moment, you almost believed him. Still, there was something weird he wasn’t telling you and you figured it was probably for a reason.

“Well, I personally have already started drinking, I don’t know if you’re a fan of Merlot, but you're welcome to it,” you said, holding up your open bottle. “Curry’s almost done. I made tofu and vegetables to go along with it, but also made some chicken in case you’re in the mood for meat.”

“Sounds great,” Spencer smiled. “I don’t drink, but thank you.”

“Ok, I’ll just grab you some water then,” you smiled.    
“T-thanks,” he said timidly. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, when you handed him the glass. He looked a little dazed. 

“Nothing, just normally people ask why I don’t drink. It’s...refreshing not to have to tell them.”

You shrugged. If he wanted to tell you that was his business. 

“I have plenty of friends in AA, some in NA” you told him. “I don’t care if you don’t drink. I don’t care if you do.”

Spencer nodded and took a sip of water. You laid out your plates, placing the rice on them and then motioning for him to join you in the kitchen. It was a tight squeeze, but you managed to fit the both of you hip against hip in the kitchen. 

“Pour whatever your heart desires on this lovely rice,” you said, handing him the spoon. 

He served himself and you followed, taking your wine and food to the table. You had laid out the tablecloth and put a nice scented candle in the middle for a little ambiance and to battle the smell of curry to at least keep it from completely taking over your apartment.

“Alright, time to prove yourself,” you teased. “Are you truly unafraid of my cooking?”

He held your gaze while trying a bite.    
“It’s amazing,” He smiled. 

“Yes,” you said triumphantly.

You sipped your wine and tried your work yourself. It was delicious and you patted yourself on your back. You talked with Spencer about cooking for a little while, getting up once or twice to refill your wine glass. 

It was a fun evening, and you were starting to loosen up even more now, getting a little drunk on your wine. You got up, wine in hand, to go get a book you were thinking of, to show Spencer, when you tripped on the table leg, sending about half of your wine onto Spencer’s shirt.

“Fuck,” you breathed, setting the glass down. 

Spencer stood up quickly and took a couple napkins to his shirt, but the damage was done. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, here take your shirt off, I’ll rinse it in some club soda to make sure it doesn’t set.

“It’s fine,” Spencer said, looking nervous. “Really, don’t worry about it.”

“No, come on, it’s my fault, I’ll give you one of the shirts I sleep in, it’s huge, we’ll just make sure it doesn’t stain. It looks like a nice one.”

He pressed his lips together and you wondered why he was hesitating. 

“Come on,” you beckoned, not taking any time to think of why he might not want to shed his shirt.

He took a breath as if mentally preparing for a battle, and shed his shirt. You grabbed it, rummaged through your fridge for the club soda, and quickly stopped up the sink, filling it with the soda and plunging the shirt in there. You rubbed it around, trying to get the wine out. It seemed like some of it was starting to come out. Your rubbing seemed to have little effect, so you let it be, allowing the club soda to do its work.

“Be right back,” you said, barely glancing at the half naked man in your dining room. You fled to your room and found a giant shirt. You’d gotten it in some contest and they only had XL sizes remaining. Running back into the room, you handed the shirt to Spencer. “Here,” you breathed. 

He took it, and slipped it on. You watched him, somewhat mesmerized by the moment. You followed his arms as they slid through the holes, and noticed some strange scarring on them. It almost looked like… but it couldn’t be.

He caught you staring and you looked at him apologetically. Is this why he hadn’t wanted to change? Had he thought you would judge him?

“I can explain,” he said softly. 

“You don’t have to,” you said. You reached for his arm and gave it a squeeze. “You don’t owe me anything.”

He looked surprised but also pained. 

“I just… It wasn’t… I was kidnapped, on a case,” he said. “A long time ago. He injected me with a very addictive drug… I got clean but… It was rough.”

“And that’s why you don’t drink.”

“It’s why I don’t do a lot of things,” he said softly.

You couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him, pressing him against you and letting him know that you were there. He seemed tense at first, but eased into the hug. You felt his face buried in your neck and you shut your eyes to just try and radiate as much love as you could towards him. 

When you finally pulled away, you took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you said, brushing your hand against his. “You’re safe now, though,” you smiled. 

He nodded. 

“I’ll keep you safe,” you said, your drunk mind convinced that this was the right thing to say. He chuckled. “I’m serious,” you said. “No friend of mine is going to be in any danger. Not on my account, not on anyone’s account.”

“Okay,” he laughed, and you smiled. 

You breathed out and cupped his face in your hands. It felt as though you were about to say something profound. 

“I’m going to check on your shirt,” was what came out. 

He laughed, having also expected something more serious, and you left him to check on his soaking shirt. The soda was reddish now, a promising sign that it was leaking out of the fabric. You picked the shirt out of the water and noticed it had indeed seeped the wine right out. 

“Look!” you cheered, holding up the shirt for him to see. 

You heard your phone chime from its place on the table. Spencer looked down at it. 

“Who is it?” you asked, your hands soaked in club soda. 

“Luke,” Spencer said evenly. 

“Oh, maybe he sent more pictures of Roxy,” you said. “Check, check!”

You gave him the password to your phone and he opened it, almost grimacing at the screen.

“Uh, no pictures,” Spencer reported. You frowned.

“Oh, then what?”

“He… wants to know when you’re going on your next hike.”

It sounded as though he had just had to report that someone had died. 

“Eh, I’ll text him tomorrow,” you shrugged. He seemed to smile at this and put your phone back on the table. “I was hoping for a cute dog photo. I think we both could have used one,” you frowned. 

“Yeah,” he said distractedly.

You rinsed his shirt off in the sink and laid it over the faucet to dry it out a little. Walking over to him, you were careful not to sound too serious. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

His head perked up and his brows pulled together.

“You’re the one who saved my shirt,” he said. You laughed. 

“No, not that. I just… Thank you for opening up to me,” you said. “Before. I know it isn’t easy keeping secrets, but it’s almost as hard to share them.”

He swallowed and looked at you with the biggest eyes.

“It helps to have a friend who will listen.”

You nodded, wondering if he’d talked about it with his team. You were sure he had, but at the same time, he also must have kept some things from them. He must have sheltered himself a little. How else would he have kept working with them?

“Sucks to work with a bunch of therapists, sometimes I would think,” you frowned. “Hard to share when you think you’re being analyzed and not just listened to. I’d imagine it’s hard to turn that off.”

Something in his eyes brightened as if he were surprised at this insight.

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

You walked to the couch and motioned for him to sit down. You felt heavy and tired, and sunk into the cushions, resting your feet on the coffee table. He sat down beside you, but kept his feet on the floor. 

“How long ago was it?” you asked. 

“Eleven years, six months, nine days,” he said quickly. You blinked. Was he serious?

“Shit,” you muttered. “You remember everything, huh?”

“Yes,” he said. His hands were clenched together in his lap and you could see his jaw tense. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you relive it, obviously. I just… I want to know if you’re okay,” you said. 

And you did. You wanted to make sure this man was okay. More than okay. Because your friend deserved it.

“I’m okay,” he breathed. “Far worse has happened since then,” he said.

Something told you not to press, and after a moment he sighed and laid back against the couch, closing his eyes. His hands were still clenched together, and you slowly ran a hand tentatively over them. He relaxed almost immediately, but didn’t open his eyes. His breath slowed, and he allowed you to take one of his hands in yours. You closed your eyes too and took a breath, just holding his hand. 

You stayed like that, you weren’t sure for how long. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you jerked awake from a falling sensation. Finding yourself securely on the couch, you looked at Spencer. His eyes were open, and he was looking at you. Had he been staring, or had he been awoken by your jolt as well?

“It’s late,” he whispered. You looked at the clock and realized it was very late. You must have slept for two hours. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” he interrupted. “I actually slept,” he laughed. “That never happens.”

You sat up, concerned. 

“Nightmares?” you asked. He nodded shyly. “Been there,” you breathed, remembering when things started happening with Cameron how you’d dream he had found you. You shuddered. 

You looked at his arm in the blueish light coming from the windows. You saw the spattering of scars, like tiny constellations. You saw the clusters of more recent ones and the mere memory of others. Without thinking, you brushed your hands over those scars. They were reminders, you thought. Reminders of strength, persistence. He tensed a little at your touch and you moved away immediately.

“Sorry,” you muttered. How were you so incredibly rude?

“It’s fine,” Spencer said quickly. “I just… I don’t think anyone really… seen them, or touched them before.”

“I know why you hide them,” you said. “But you don’t have to. At least… not from me. Not if… if you don’t feel like you have to.”

He looked at you silently for a long time. It felt like he wanted to say something, maybe a lot of things. But then, the look on his face changed, as if losing some internal debate.

“I better be going,” he said softly, slipping his hand out of yours. 

You got up to follow him to the door. 

“Do you mind if I hold onto this?” he asked, pulling at the shirt you’d lent him. 

“Of course not, keep it, even,” you said. “The least I could give you for spilling wine on you.”

“You can spill wine on me any day,” he said, sounding sincere but tired. 

You helped him gather his things and made your way to the door. You saw how he draped the drenched shirt over the crease in his arms with the worse scarring. 

“Thanks for dinner,” he said. Then, softer, “And… everything else.”

You hugged him again and breathed him in. You nestled into his chest and tried to let him know that you were there for him. This thing, this strange friendship, however it had started, was turning into something real now. You weren’t sure when it started, but you were grateful for it. It was pretty lonely here. You had Morgan, but he had his family. You had Manny and the boys, but they had lived here their whole lives. They had friends and family, not much room for any serious friendships. Somehow you had slipped into a new friendship with plenty of room for you.

“Come back soon, okay?” you asked. 

“Okay,” he smiled, pulling away from your embrace. 

He left with a small wave and closed the door behind him. You left the cleaning up for the morning and headed to bed, wondering if Spencer would sleep tonight, or if he, like you, would be plagued with his worst memories, and darkest fears.


	7. Chapter 7

You woke early and blindly felt for your phone. Finding it nowhere near you, you groaned and got up. You had left it in the kitchen. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you opened it and found the screen had been left on Luke’s unanswered text. You remembered wanting to do something with the hole team and wondered if you should suggest that. You still hadn’t met Tara, and you wanted to be with Morgan’s whole team. 

You texted back, reading it over to make sure your sleep addled brain hadn’t mistyped anything.

_ Team pictionary tournament next weekend? _

You got to work making breakfast and texted Manny that you would be late. He told you he’d get the day going and you got ready as soon as you could and made your way to the house. Luke texted you while you were driving and you read his enthusiastic comment when you arrived. He promised that barring any emergencies, the team would be down for the game night you had suggested.

You got a group text a moment later with a bunch of numbers you didn’t recognize, plus Spencer, Morgan, Luke, Garcia and Emily. Everyone said they were available and ready to go that weekend. It gave you something to look forward to as you moved heavy, old, stained, tile out of the kitchen and into a pile outside.

“You seem happy,” Manny remarked as you were clearing your brow of sweat. 

“Nothing makes me smile like moving heavy shit,” you smirked. 

“No, I mean like, in general,” he said. You frowned. 

“Was I not happy before?”

“Nah, just… I don’t know, something’s different.”

You smiled, glad that your newfound friendships had had a positive impact. 

“I am… happier,” you said. 

“Good,” he smiled. 

He helped you load some tile into a wheelbarrow and shove it outside. When you were done for the day, you headed home. The remaining days of the week were much the same. You made really good progress on the house, getting all the floors up and ready for replacement. 

Friday night, you got a text from Luke. 

_Emergency in Montana, we have to reschedule the game night._ _Sorry, I was really looking forward to it._

Your heart dropped and you felt incredibly disappointed. 

_ Damn, okay, no worries, go save the world. _

He responded that he was thankful for your understanding and you sighed. What were you supposed to do now? You texted Spencer. 

_ Hey, I guess game night’s off… Want to do something just us instead? _

He responded quickly. 

_ Yeah, what’d you have in mind? _

_ Idk just hanging? Maybe throw on a movie or something? _

_ Sounds good to me. _

You smiled, happy to have some plans this weekend to look forward to, even if they weren’t as elaborate as you’d anticipated. You spent the Friday night with a glass of wine and book, falling asleep on the couch and switching to your bed. You found on nights when you drank, sometimes the nightmares of Cameron finding you were lessened. You were worried this would make you a little addicted to the stuff, but it didn’t take a lot, just a glass here or there. Not that it always worked. You sometimes woke up in a sweat, but sometimes was enough.

You decided on his apartment for the night, and you went out and bought a bottle of wine for you, and a bottle of sparkling apple cider for him. He seemed to appreciate the thought, and you poured your glasses and cheersed. 

You ended up watching a newer Star Trek movie and laughing at Spencer’s critiques and acknowledgements of the science. You were comfortably buzzed, and felt warm and happy. You’d ended up slipping down on the couch, laying your head on the headrest and curling up with a blanket, while Spencer sat with his legs tucked under him, sipping his sparkling cider.

When the movie ended, you thought about space for a moment. 

“You remember that Vonnegut book?” you asked. “The one with the aliens who were trying to help their friend?”

He didn’t even blink.

“‘Sirens of Titan,’” he said. 

“Yeah!” you smiled. “I would love it if we were just doing the bidding of aliens and had no idea. I don’t think Kirk would go for that though.”

Spencer chuckled. 

“I miss that book,” you said nostalgically. 

“I have it,” Spencer said. “You want to borrow it?”

You looked at him for a moment, and smiled.    
“Would you just read some of it to me? Just the best bits.”

He looked like he’d just been asked to spell a word he’d never heard before in front of a hundred people. 

“I, um, yeah sure,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. 

He got up and walked over to his bookshelves. He wasted no time and came back with the book right away, sitting down on the couch. 

“Just flip through. Really anything. I just want to hear your favorite parts.”

He eyed you cautiously, as if it might be a trap, but obeyed. He flipped open the book and let his eyes scan the page. 

“ The more pain I train myself to stand, the more I learn. You are afraid of pain now, Unk, but you won't learn anything if you don't invite the pain. And the more you learn, the gladder you will be to stand the pain,” he read. 

“Mmm,” you contemplated. Feeling a tad sleepy, and very comfortable, you decided to lay your head on Spencer’s lap to better hear him. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if you’d hurt him at first. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him between his arms. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, barely audibly. 

“Mmkay,” you said, your eyes feeling heavy. “Read me some more.”

“A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved,” he read. 

“Do you believe that?” you asked, opening your heavy eyelids to gaze up at him. 

“I don’t… know,” he said. “Do you?”

“Sure,” you smiled. “I like that. Love whoever’s around you. I think that’s nice.”

He smiled softly and one of his hands left the book to fall gently on your hair. As if he just realized what he had done, he pulled it back almost immediately, blushing. 

“No, that felt nice,” you nearly whined. “The wine is starting to give me a headache. Could you just like for two seconds maybe,” you pulled his hand back to your hair and closed your eyes as he started to simply stroke your hair. You hummed contentedly. “Are there any more good parts?” you asked. 

“Um… I can’t quite look while I’m…” he gestured to his hand in your hair. 

“Mmm well, just talk to me, I like your voice,” you said. And it was true, you found his touch and his voice very relaxing.

“Oh,” he laughed softly. “Well… I have my last class of the semester next week.”

Your eyes flew open and you almost sat up, but the feeling of his hands in your hair was too nice. 

“Really?” you asked. “Can I come?”

“You… want to?” he asked, sounding very dubious. 

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I want to see what it’s like!”

“Oh, um,” he sputtered. 

“Unless that’s against the university rules,” you shrugged. 

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed. “I’m not sure how much you’ll see, it’s sort of just a review of the semester with some student feedback.”

“I don’t care,” you smiled. “I want to see what you do.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m almost glad game night was cancelled,” you smiled. “This is nice.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “I always get nervous in big groups.”   
“But they’re your team,” you said, confused. 

“Yeah, but social situations are different than working. I know how work… works,” he said, trying to find the words. “I know that we analyze, we act, but in social situations… there’s no structure, no rules. It’s… harder for me. And I haven’t worked with them in a while,” he added. “I’ve been teaching for a few months, and things… change with newer members. Dynamics and such. Something… happened, and I had to leave the team,” he said carefully. “They always… worry. And I feel like I have to be okay for them.”   
“That sounds exhausting,” you sighed. 

He gave a small laugh. 

“It is,” he agreed. 

You thought about this, how even around his closest friends he felt uncomfortable. It was no wonder he seemed off when you first met. Still, he seemed fine now, comfortable almost.

“Well, I think we’re doing pictionary so that probably means teams of two,” you said. “You can be on my team, just stick with me the whole night,” you suggested. Maybe the buddy system would help him feel more comfortable.

“That sounds… nice,” he said. 

You closed your eyes again and sighed as his fingers gently ran through your hair. Your headache was gone, but you weren’t about to let him know. 

 

***

 

When you woke up, it was light out. There was something beneath you… Someone. You opened your eyes and found you were laying on top of a chest. You blinked in confusion, trying to remember how you could have possibly arrived in this situation. Then it dawned on you. You must have fallen asleep while he was stroking your hair last night. He probably had too, and the two of you had moved together in your semi-conscious states to get more comfortable. 

Your arm was resting between his body and the couch, the other used as a pillow. His arm had been around your waist as if keeping you from rolling off, but it moved now, as he woke up. 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked at him. He looked rested and pleasantly sleepy. It took him a few seconds to determine what you had determined, and when he did, he quickly retracted his arm, and shuffled the two of you around so that you were sitting again. His face was all red, but he tried to hide a bit of it by rubbing his face in his hands.

“I am so sorry,” he said, words muffled by his hidden face. 

“Why?” you laughed, feeling your extreme bedhead. 

“I did not mean to fall asleep,” he said, finally looking over at you. 

“I slept pretty great for once, so I’m not complaining,” you shrugged. And it was true. No nightmares for you for once.

He seemed to consider this and stretched a little as if testing something out. 

“Me too,” he said slowly, as the realization dawned on him.

“So no harm no foul,” you smiled. “And my honor is still intact,” you said in your best southern drawl, acting as if fanning yourself with an old timey fan.

He chuckled softly and stood, stretching just enough to reveal a small part of his stomach. You walked to the kitchen to put on some coffee. 

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and yawning. 

“You’re welcome to stay for breakfast,” you offered. Part of you didn’t want him to leave. He had staved off the nightmares, and for that, you felt like you owed him something. 

“No, no, I should get going,” he said. His cheeks were still red.

“Okay, well, let me know what time your class is,” you said. “I wanna be there.”

“It’s a night class,” he said. “Six to eight.”

“I’ll be there with bells on,” you smiled. 

He blushed again and looked at his shoes. 

“Just text me the address and I’ll meet you somewhere on campus?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That works.”

“Great,” you smiled. 

“Okay,” he said, walking to the door, you followed him. “See you Wednesday then,” he smiled. 

You hugged him, even though he clearly wasn't expecting it. The smell of him calmed you, as if had last night. You’d always associate sweet dreams with him now, there was no way around it.

He left, and you were not into being alone. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed having friends, and especially having friends over. You didn’t have to work, so you spent the day doing errands and even worked out a little with the thought that if you were really tired, you wouldn’t dream at all. Unfortunately that didn’t work, and your nightmares increased in their severity as if angered they’d been delayed a night. In this one, Cameron found you, and this time, the team was there too, but they were all bound and gagged. Spencer was there, in the middle, his eyes huge and pleading. Cameron stood with a gun. You couldn’t remember who he’d shot when you woke up as if hearing the gunshot in real life. 

You took a shower to cleanse the sweat from your body. It seemed like the dreams were getting worse, though Garcia has not warned you of any activity from him, nor had you really talked about him. You considered telling Spencer about him, but he already had so much to deal with on his own. There was no way you were going to add your problems to his mix. And as far as you knew, there was no problem. Garcia was keeping tabs on him, and so far he was staying away. You were fine. And you would probably be fine from now on. He’d probably just forget about you and move on.

You worked on the house during the week, leaving a little early to shower and get ready for Spencer’s class on Wednesday. Driving onto campus felt strange, as you’d never even looked at colleges, but it was exciting to see the atmosphere Spencer worked in. He met you at the visitor center and got you a badge and everything. You hooked your arm through his and made him give you a mini tour. He showed you the library with the endless shelves of books, the cafeteria, and some of the other classrooms. Finally, you arrived at the one he would be teaching in that night. It had a sort of stage area, with whiteboards behind a desk, surrounded in a semi-circle by desks, almost like a stadium. You were there with him while he got out his notes, running through what he was going to say for the last class. You sat on his desk and watched him get organized, feeling like you got to see a behind the scenes of some big show.

When the first students started walking in, you hopped off your desk and slipped into one of the seats in the front row. You watched as many of them waved at him, or even stopped by his desk for a second to talk before sitting down. You saw his eye flicker to you every so often, as if checking to see if you were still there or if you had wandered off.

He started off the class confidently, telling the students how it had been his pleasure to lecture this semester, and how they’d done a great job and been surprisingly bright and engaging. He went over the things they’d apparently discussed during the semester, and it was strange to hear his gentle voice talk about rape and murder so easily. He asked the students if they had any feedback, noting that if they would rather remain anonymous, they could also write down their thoughts on paper and stick it into a box he had brought with him. No one seemed that shy, however, and all of the students gave him good feedback. They had suggestions for ways they thought might help future students work better, but mostly what they said was very flattering, and Spencer blushed through a good portion of it.

You watched the students a lot too, especially the girls. Even without being a profiler, you could see that they were into him. They sat forward in their chairs, some resting their heads in their hands as if daydreaming, others sitting with their backs straight, eyes trained on their professor. You wondered if they really wanted to know him, or if they just thought he was cute. You looked at him again, realizing you hadn’t even noticed that about him. Not that you noticed that about many people you met. But you looked at him and saw it now. You saw the cute smile, the playfully messy hair. You saw the bright eyes and the adorably nervous hands. You understood what they were looking at, but did they want to know him? Did they want to deal with everything he would need them to deal with? 

You sighed, and watched the remainder of the class. When he had dismissed them, a few of the girls came up and started talking to him. He wrung his hands together nervously, stuttering and backing himself into his desk. He looked utterly overwhelmed, and you felt like you had to save him. You gathered your stuff and walked around to the side of him. 

“Hey, you want to walk me to my car?” you asked. The girls looked at you almost venomously. 

“Yeah,” he said, sighing with relief. He turned to the girls. “Thank you so much ladies, and have a wonderful summer.”

They smiled sweetly and thanked him and you whisked him away.

“Thank you,” he breathed when you were far enough away. 

“No problem,” you laughed. “Does that happen every class?”

“No,” he said. “Weird.”

“Not weird,” you rolled your eyes. “Those girls were into you, and now that you’re not their professor, they’re trying to get with you.”

“To… what?” Spencer blinked. 

“Ya know,” you said, raising your eyebrows up and down. “They got the hots for teacher.”

Spencer blushed profusely. 

“I’m sure that’s not what it was,” he said with an awkward laugh. You sighed, exasperated. 

“Spence, trust me, it was.” You thought for a moment and added, “You could really have any of them you wanted to, I think.”

He cleared his throat and shook his head. 

“I… I um, I…” he stuttered. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it,” you laughed. “It’s good, it means they like you, that they think you’re interesting and cute. I’m sure if they’re taking your class here, they’re super smart just like you.”

You realized how true that was. You remembered the girl you created in your head for him, the super smart girl with gorgeous eyes. A girl that could read just one book at a time and before she got overdue notices from the library. A girl who knew just what to say when Spencer told her about his addiction. A girl who wasn’t you. You weren’t sure why that bothered you so much.

“I… I don’t think I’m interested in any of them,” he said. You had reached the parking lot. 

“To each their own,” you shrugged. “Though you shouldn’t knock it till you’ve tried it, or so I’m told,” you said. “Well, I guess I’m not the best one to give advice, I’ve never really been in a real relationship so…”

“You?” Spencer asked, as if you’d just told him you were actually born on Mars.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes,” he answered too quickly.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you smirked, but felt a little more confident. 

“Well, I’m not interested in them,” he said softly. 

“That’s fine,” you smiled. “You’ll find someone. Or not, whatever floats your boat.”

He smiled softly and nodded. You reached your car and unlocked it, tossing your purse inside. 

“Thanks for letting me come,” you smiled. “I really loved it.”

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you said. “You’re a great teacher, I can tell your students really love you, and not just the girls,” you laughed. “Everyone loved your style. It was awesome.”

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

“So I’ll see you next weekend assuming no other psychopaths decide to wreak havoc?” you asked. 

“I guess,” he smiled half-heartedly.    
“Don’t sound too enthusiastic,” you smirked. He rolled his eyes and sighed as you got into your car.

On your drive home, you thought about him. You thought about how smart he was, how comfortable he seemed to be in that element. You had never fit in like that in academia. Perhaps you’d just never found the right teacher. You could see yourself wanting to learn with Spencer, though. You were glad that he had found his calling, and that he was inspiring other people to go save the world.

You pictured his future, how he’d find a student or another professor that shared his intellect and range of knowledge, how he’d fall for her, and she for him, and they’d get married and have genius babies. You thought about your future. And how you’d probably live alone in that apartment and watch your new friends get married off while you stayed alone. And alone was fine. Or it had been. But now you didn’t know. Now it felt like you were missing something you hadn’t seen before. You just couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Morgan’s house was starting to really look like a house. You had finished the kitchen, its new cabinets and shiny floor made you anxious to finish the rest of the downstairs. You were confident that you would have Morgan’s house ready for them by the wedding, and all set for them to move into after their honeymoon.

Ryan’s husband had stopped by during work to give you all some muffins as a special treat, and you got to see them together. You were glad at least one of your employees had someone looking after them. Sometimes when Tim and Manny showed up with stains on their shirts, or missed patches on their chins, you wished they had someone looking out for them.

After taking a call from Luke at work, you had Manny begging you to invite him to the pictionary tournament that the weekend promised. Since Matt had last minute plans, and it was going to be you, Spencer, Rossi, JJ, Emily, Garcia, Luke, Morgan, and Tara, you rolled your eyes and made his dream come true for an even number of players. Manny was beyond excited to meet all of your fancy FBI friends, and you couldn't help but be excited for him. He had been a godsend with this house, basically reading your mind and making the days go by so easily that you thought you must be missing something. 

You told him you already had your teammate, but you were sure Morgan would be more than happy to step in. You got ready for the party at your house. Rossi was hosting, and you were excited to see where the reception would be held. You dared not bring over wine for fear that Rossi would judge your cheap choices, but instead opted for homemade cookies, a fan favorite.

You arrived after almost everyone had come, making you just ahead of Manny who strolled in behind you, giving you the perfect opportunity to introduce him to everyone. 

“You must be the famous Tara,” you smiled, holding out your hand in greeting.    
“I’d say you’re more famous than me,” she smirked. “Reid and Morgan won’t shut up about how great you are.”

She cast a teasing look back at them. Morgan grinned at you and Spencer blushed. 

“Ah, well, all lies,” you promised. She laughed. 

“Come here,” Morgan said, walking up past Tara to give you a hug. “How’s my girl?”

“Fine,” you laughed. “How’s my man?” Morgan asked, greeting Manny with a coordinated handshake-hug.

“Great,” Manny beamed. “Glad to be here.”

You let the two of them catch up while you made your way to Spencer.

“Hey,” you smiled, squeezing his arm in greeting. “How you holding up?”

“I’ve survived so far,” he smiled. “Glad you’re here though.”

You nudged him with your hip and winked in confirmation that you were there for him.

“Alright, teams teams,” Rossi said, clapping his hands together. “Gather over here.”

You made your way, following the crowd of people through his enormous foyer and into his even grander living room. Several couches lined the walls, and the carpet was lush and clean beneath your feet. There were string lights everywhere, and a few candles on tables too. The man had a great sense for decoration, you noted. There would be more than enough room for a reception here. You glanced out the back to see the stonework around the pool that probably cost more than your car.

Spencer stayed at your side, as if you were attached by the hip. Luke had made his way to the back of the party and slipped on the other side of you. 

“So, is my wife on my team?” he asked.

You chuckled. 

“I am sorry to report, I am having an affair,” you said in a mockingly serious tone. 

Spencer’s face reddened.

“I am shocked to hear this,” Luke said. Then, turning to Spencer, “Take care of her.”

You giggled and Luke left your side to join up with Tara. Spencer seemed tense, but you quickly squeezed his hand to let him know he could relax, you were still staying with him. 

Luke and Tara sat at one end of the couch, Emily and Garcia joined together next to them, Manny and Morgan next, Rossi and JJ, and you and Spencer fit on the small couch that sat two next to it.

Spencer sat surprisingly close to you, as if your mere contact with him reassured him. You didn’t mind, and in fact were equally calmed by his presence. There were a lot of people here. And while they were all nice, they were still new, at least most of them, and you were more than a little intimidated by their credentials. You couldn’t believe how much Manny was your opposite, easily chatting with them, having the time of his life without a care in the world. You wondered how people could be wired so differently, and marveled at how strangely similar you and Spencer were.

Rossi brought out the bowl he had prepared with the things you would be drawing. There were going to be two rounds, each with timed sections. Whoever got the most points by the end of the two rounds won. The prize was bragging rights, and first pick at dessert.

It took awhile for the game to get through its first round. The amount of teams that had to go meant you had time to go refill your snack plate a few times and run to the bathroom when the wine went through you. Every time you came back to your seat you saw Spencer smiling at you. He seemed to be having a good enough time, and you hoped that you were helping ease whatever anxiety he was having. He was certainly helping you. It was nice to have someone there that knew you a little better. Morgan was there of course, but he wanted to spend time with the friends he didn’t see when he stopped by to check on the house a few times a week. Manny was too obsessed with asking ninety questions a minute about their jobs and telling them all about the work you were doing on Morgan’s house, he didn’t have time for you either. And you were glad they were enjoying themselves. You were able to talk with the team, and learn more about Tara especially. She was equally as impressive as everyone else and you couldn’t help the sense of incompetence that weighed on you. Still, it wasn’t enough to ruin your night by any means, and you enjoyed being around your super smart friends.

You and Spencer did well with guessing each other’s drawings. He went for a more phonetic, logical approach and you went for the more straightforward draw-what-it-is approach. You weren’t in the lead, but you weren’t in last place either. By the middle of the second round you could feel the rosiness in your cheeks. You had twisted to better watch the game by laying against the arm rest, letting your legs fall across Spencer’s lap. His hand held your legs, as if anchoring you to him. You felt cozy and warm and safe with these people, a feeling you did not take for granted.

When the game was won, Garcia and Emily declared the winners, you made your way to Rossi’s kitchen for the promised dessert. He had ordered a beautiful chocolate cake with raspberries adorning the outside, and as you learned a little later, the inside as well. Your cookies seemed inferior in comparison, but everyone made a point to tell you how amazing they were, and a few even asked for the recipe.

When you were stuffed with sweets, you put down your plate and were promptly pulled away by the arm by Garcia. 

“Come look!” she exclaimed, pulling you along without a moment for you to ask why or to even see where you were going.

It turned out that she had received photos of some puppies from her friend and she wanted to show you immediately. She led you to where she was charging her phone by the wall, and handed the phone over to you, showing you the golden retriever puppies that couldn't be more than a few weeks old.

“Oh my goodness,” you swooned. 

“I know!” She beamed.

When you had stared at the precious angels for a few moments, you handed her phone back to her.    
“Hey, we gotta hang out again,” she said. “This time I won’t make you do home repairs, I promise.”

You laughed.    
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind,” you said. 

“Seriously,” she said. “I always need good strong ladies in my life.” She looked over your shoulder and saw someone. “And I’m not the only one,” she grinned. 

You turned to see Morgan and Spencer walking towards you. 

“What’re you two ladies looking at?” Morgan asked suggestively. 

“None of your business,” Garcia winked, slipping her phone back onto the back of the couch.

“It was a dog wasn’t it,” Morgan asked you. 

You laughed and nodded. 

“How many pictures of Roxy did you take on that hike?” Morgan asked. You rolled your eyes. 

“Only like seventy,” you joked. “These, however, were not of Roxy.”

“Why’re you talking about my dog?” Luke asked, walking over to your small group. 

You saw Spencer inch closer to you as he did so, even though there was no need to make room for him.

“Because she’s a perfect angel and my soulmate,” Garcia gushed. Luke laughed. 

“True,” he agreed. 

“So, are you all learned in the art of dance?” Rossi asked, walking over from the kitchen. 

“That and profiling,” you smirked. “I read your first book.”

He smiled and took a sip of wine. 

“And?”

“It was good,” you said. “Some stuff went a little over my head,” you shrugged. “But that’s why I take out walls instead of criminals.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t over your head,” Emily said. “Rossi can be a bit… superfluous with language,” she teased.

“He does tend to go on and on,” Morgan continued the teasing. 

You smiled, happy that the team had come to your defense. Admittedly, some of the book had been a little much for you, but then, that wasn’t your schtick, and you couldn't blame yourself for that. Apparently neither did the team.

“You wrote a book?” Manny asked. Everyone had migrated over to where you and Garcia had started talking now. 

“A few,” Rossi said with a proud casualness. 

“Oh man, I’ll need to pick those up,” he said, excited. “Here, just borrow his,” JJ said, walking over to the bookshelf and picking them out. 

“Oh sure, my house is a library now,” Rossi rolled his eyes, but nodded that Manny could actually borrow them. “In addition to a reception hall.”

“I can’t wait for the wedding,” Tara smiled. “You two are just too good. The wedding is going to be perfect.”

“Thanks,” Morgan smiled. “Couldn’t do it without my Skates,” he said, raising his glass to you. “The best best-woman a guy could ask for.”

You shrugged, unsure what you had done other than not lose the ring yet. 

“Did I ever tell you about my first wedding,” Rossi asked. The team groaned and laughed. 

The night went on for a little while longer before you grew tired and sober.    
“I think I’m going to call it a night, you guys,” you said, clearly the first one to feel like you’d had enough. 

“Already?” Luke asked. 

“It’s almost midnight,” you laughed. “Past my bedtime.”

He frowned, shaking his head, but gave you a quick hug. It was unlike his other hug after your hike, and you wondered why there was a difference, or if you were just imagining it. Maybe he didn’t like hanging out with you after all. You hugged the rest of the team, telling Tara how nice it was to finally meet her. You asked the team to tell Matt you said hi the next time they saw him. 

“I think I’ll head out too,” Spencer said, while you were in the midst of your goodbyes. 

“Two early nighters,” Rossi shook his head. “I didn’t raise you like this,” he shook a finger at Spencer who smiled. 

The two of you made your way to the door and you grabbed your purse. You made it outside into the cool night air. You took a deep breath and Spencer seemed to do the same. 

“Tired?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Going to go home and sleep?”

“Going to try.”   
“Same.”

You shared a look, and you wondered if he knew you had nightmares too. You hadn’t said anything. Maybe he just thought you had insomnia. Part of you wanted to ask him to come back with you, to just sleep next to you. Maybe the last time you fell asleep was a fluke, but you were anxious to try it again. It seemed to be more effective than wine, and you were desperate to stop the dreams. Still, you didn’t feel like he would go for it, nor did you feel comfortable asking. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“For what?”

“Just being there tonight,” he said. “Something about just knowing you were there… helped. I didn’t feel as anxious as I usually do.”

“Oh,” you blushed. “Well, no problem. Happy to exist near ya.”

He mumbled something like “It’s fascinating,” before walking a few paces away. 

“Goodnight,” he said, smiling at you before getting into his car.

“Night,” you waved. 

 

**

You didn’t sleep. Or rather, you didn’t sleep well. As predicted, the nightmares returned. It seemed that as you gained more in your life, you realized you had more to lose. And this meant new characters in your dreams, new hostages for Dream Cameron to take, to torture you with. 

You woke early, unable to fall back asleep.

You went to Morgan’s house, figuring you’d get a head start on the day and make it easier on your friends. Manny was the first to arrive, a little earlier than you’d set the time for the four of you to begin your work.

“Early morning, huh?” he asked, handing you a coffee. 

“How’d you know?” you smiled. 

“I know you,” he grinned. “Figured you could use a pickmeup.”

“Thanks,” you said.    
“Thank  _ you _ ,” he responded. “You have amazing friends.”

“How late did you stay?”

“They had to drag me out.” 

You laughed. 

“I don’t doubt it.”

“For real, though. I mean I knew Morgan was cool, but the rest of them are something else too. Rossi, man, dude’s got style, huh? The ladies, very nice. Luke, very cool, Spencer, little weird,” he admitted.    
“Weird?” you asked. 

“I don't know, just seemed off,” Manny shrugged. “Most of the time he was fine, but he would just randomly, like stop breathing? Tense up?”

You frowned. He seemed fine to you. When you’d seen him, everything was normal. 

“Huh,” you shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Seemed to be a nice enough guy, though,” he said. “Just, ya know, different.”

You didn’t doubt that this was a regular reaction to Spencer from people who didn’t know him. Still, it was interesting that Manny thought he was tense, when all you saw was that he was relaxed. You had left him for a few moments at a time during the party, but surely that wasn’t enough time for him to tense up.

Your phone buzzed and you saw Morgan had texted you. He invited you to dinner at his place the following evening and you accepted. You worked hard on the house for the rest of the day and the next, arriving at Morgan’s house right on time. 

During dinner, Morgan asked you an interesting question. 

“What are you planning to do after you’re done with my house?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, probably hop on another crew somewhere,” you shrugged. “Why?”

“What would you say… if we were to go into business together?”

“What?” you laughed. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “We can flip houses. I have the capitol, we can invest, flip it, and sell it. Be our own bosses, work whatever we want. I have a whole business plan if you want to see it.”

Your jaw dropped. 

“Morgan, I love you,” you nearly screamed. “That sounds like the dream!”

He grinned and Savannah congratulated you on your new adventure.

After dinner, you were sitting on the couch with his son on your lap, staring into the happy brown eyes.

“So, what are you planning for the bachelor party?” Savannah asked. The question took you off guard.

“I thought you didn’t want one?” you asked Morgan.

“I don’t,” he laughed. 

“You have to have one,” Savannah pushed him playfully. “How am I supposed to go out with my girls knowing you’re just here with the baby?”

“That’s where I was born to be,” Morgan answered with a cheesy smile. 

“What if we just got Rossi to buy us some super nice alcohol and sat around with the guys?” you suggested. “Low key. We can even have it at Spencer’s house to ensure things don’t get out of hand,” you suggested. “No way he’s going to let any mischief arise if it’s on his turf.”

Morgan nodded, considering this. 

“Not a terrible idea,” he conceded. 

“I’ll text the boys,” you smiled. 

“Good,” Savannah said, patting Morgan’s lap happily.

You stared down at Hank, who was sleepily looking up at you. You bounced your knees gently, rocking him on your lap.

“Do you want kids?” Savannah asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” you laughed. “I kind of like handing them back at the end of the day to be honest.”

“That’s what I thought too,” she smirked. “But I changed. Not that I’m saying you will or have to, but it’s funny how people change like that. They say they want to be alone forever, they find someone, they say they don’t want kids and then have four,” she laughed. “People never know what they actually want.”

You shrugged. 

“Fair enough,” you said. “I’ll keep an open mind to what I actually want.”

“What I actually want is to get me some dessert,” Morgan said, getting up. “Can I interest anyone else?”

 

**

  
When you got home, you sent out a group text to everyone planning on organizing Morgan’s bachelor party. Spencer agreed to host, Rossi agreed to bring his expensive scotch, Luke and Matt committed to bringing food, and you promised to bring the cookies you’d made for the game night.

With the wedding only just over two weeks away, you made the plan to have the party the next weekend. Thankfully, everyone’s schedules aligned and the team was given a blissful night off from psychopaths. Everyone delivered on their promises and Morgan arrived just as you were done heating up the food. You put on some good music, and began pouring the drinks. Spencer stuck with a virgin Shirley Temple, and the rest of you indulged in some smooth scotch. 

Most of the night included laughing and talking, sharing stories about past loves and current ones. Matt talked about how he and his wife met, and you could tell that they were still very much in love. Rossi talked about his marriages, and you could tell he still had the zest for romance even though he’d been through so much already. You and Spencer remained relatively quiet on the subject. You knew yours was mostly from lack of anything to tell, but you weren’t sure about Spencer. You wondered if he’d ever dated anyone before. Maybe he had had the girl you’d envisioned him with and somehow lost her. You had no idea.

Still, everyone’s stories were lighthearted and fun, and the night passed quickly with the addition of a drinking card game. You didn't realize how drunk you were until you got up to go to the bathroom. It was late, and you could tell that the others were sobering up and getting ready to go home. You didn’t want to seem like a lightweight, so you decided to just make an excuse and wait until they left. You only needed an hour or two to sober up and go home, or you could just crash on the couch. Either way, your dignity would remain intact at least with the others. Let Spencer judge you for your poor choices all he wanted, though you knew he wouldn’t, and that’s why this was your plan.

When you emerged from the bathroom, it looked like everyone was packing up. 

“Ready to go, Skates?” Morgan asked. “Thanks for a great night.”

You smiled and hugged him. 

“I think I’m actually going to stay for a waltz refresher,” you said, looking at Spencer with a questioning look. “If that’s okay? In case we don’t have time again before the wedding.”

“That’s fine,” he grinned widely, but then reigned it in to a small smile.

“Don’t stay up too late, kids,” Rossi wagged a finger at you with a smirk. 

“Thanks for hosting,” Matt waved on his way out. 

“Thanks for the scotch,” Luke smiled at Rossi as they made their way out.

Morgan stayed for a moment to look at you. You were standing next to Spencer, and his eyes drifted between the two of you. 

“Have a good night,” he said, as if deciding against something else to say. 

“Night,” you waved. 

When everyone was gone, you turned to Spencer.    
“Sorry, so you can totally go to bed, I don’t need a refresher, I just didn’t want to admit I’m not sober enough to drive home home,” you laughed, embarrassed. “Let me just hang out here for like an hour or so and then I’ll slip out.”

“You can stay as long as you want,” Spencer smiled. “I’m not really tired,” he added, though you knew that wasn’t true.

“Wanna just hang out for a little then?” you asked. Your heart sped up for a moment, and you hoped he wouldn’t go to bed.

“Yeah,” he said. 

You flopped happily on the couch, laying all the way across it.

“Too bad there’s nowhere for you to sit,” you teased. He chuckled. 

He gently moved your legs and sat down underneath them, sliding them carefully into his lap as was now apparently your customary stance on the couch together.

“I can’t believe the wedding’s so soon,” you reflected. 

“I know,” Spencer smiled. 

“I don’t even know what I’m going to say for my best-woman speech.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he promised. 

“Or not, and I’ll just like cause a small fire as a distraction and run away.”

“I’ll bring some matches.”

You looked at him and smiled. 

“You got my back?” you asked, and while your tone was playful, you were serious. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Me too,” you said. 

And you did, you would. You found yourself realizing as you spent more and more time with him that you would do a lot for this man. You would help him in whatever way you could. Because you trusted him, felt comfortable with him, and that meant a lot to you. You didn’t want to let this friendship go for anything.

You couldn’t stop your body from doing what it wanted, then. You wanted to be closer to him, though you didn’t know why. You untucked your legs from his grasp, bending them, and instead curled into him, sliding carefully under his arm and resting your head on the crook of his neck. You felt safe and comforted. You thought he might bak at the contact, might shrink away from you, as he sometimes did, but he didn’t. 

He let his arm come around your shoulder and hold you to him. You snuggled closer to him and let out a breath, closing your eyes. 

In the morning you cursed under your breath. This time the two of you had fallen asleep spooning. Spencer was behind you, gently wrapped around you with his arm tightly around your waist. Your head rested on your very much asleep arm, and you flexed your hand to get some feeling back into it. When you moved, Spencer seemed to stir but not wake fully. His arm unconsciously pulled you closer, tucking you perfectly into his body. You couldn’t help the butterflies that made your stomach twist pleasantly as you felt him behind you. 

You didn’t want to move, but you really really had to pee. Trying your hardest not to wake him, you lifted the arm that was around your stomach carefully, trying to slide out from under him. He pulled you back in, still asleep.

Fuck. You were going to pee your pants soon, apparently subtly wasn’t going to work. You cleared your throat.

“Um, Spencer?” you asked quietly, rubbing his arm with your hand gently. He inhaled sharply and stretched. 

“Wha--”

You felt him tense behind you and realized he’d woken up. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, pushing himself back against the couch to give you some more space while retracting his arm. 

“This is becoming a habit,” you teased, sliding off the couch. “Be right back,” you promised, and ran to his bathroom. 

When you came out, his cheeks were red, and he was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He lifted it when you came in. 

“Morning,” you greeted with a cheeky smile. 

“Morning,” he laughed nervously. 

“Did you sleep?” you asked, noting the lessening of usual under eye darkness.

“Yeah,” he said, as if he regretted it. 

“Me too,” you said, almost only realizing it as you said it. No nightmares again. “Sorry to impose, I know you probably weren’t planning on couch surfing in your apartment.”

He shook his head and stood up. 

“I slept better than I have in my own bed in a long time,” he laughed. “No need to apologize.”

You wondered why that was, why the two of you slept so well together again. Perhaps you truly trusted each other, felt safe with each other. You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to be kidnapped, but you assumed you didn’t get over that kind of trauma, or whatever else he had alluded to, that easily. You had to admit, sleeping next to an FBI agent, even a former one, felt a lot safer than sleeping alone in your own bed. 

“I slept well too,” you admitted. You didn't want to tell him about Cameron, about the nightmares. He already had enough on his plate. So instead, you lied. “Turns out scotch and a comfy couch are a cure to insomnia. Who knew!”

He smiled, though you could almost see in his eyes that he didn’t believe you. Still, he didn’t press it.

“I should probably get out of your hair,” you said, dreading going home to an empty apartment. 

“Oh, okay,” he said, looking down at the floor. 

“Unless…” his head perked up. “Breakfast?” you offered. He grinned.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your lovely comments 


	9. Chapter 9

“Of course I’ll watch her!” you beamed over the phone.    
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency,” Luke explained. “I know I joked about it but--”

“Honestly, I’d pay you to hang out with your dog,” you laughed. “It’s not a problem. As long as you need me to I can watch her.”

“Thank you,” Luke said earnestly. 

He gave you the pin to the lock on his door, and told you where to find all of Roxy’s supplies. When you entered, she was cautious, but as soon as she recognized you, she gave you a big goofy grin and wanted to be pet nonstop. You grabbed her bowls and food, leash and harness, and brought her back to your place. Luke had explained that his usual dog sitter was in the hospital for some operation and couldn’t take the dog. He had offered to board her somewhere, but your offer had come to mind and he knew she’d be happier with a friend. 

Although you hadn’t hung out with Luke at all after the bachelor party, you still liked him and wanted to do him a favor. Even though he kept blowing you off for hiking adventures, or so it seemed to you anyway, you were glad to do it for him. He had kept saying that he either had a lot of work to do, or that he had other plans whenever you tried to make a plan with him. You wondered if he just didn’t want to be your friend, though he was very nice to you whenever you saw him in a group setting.

When you had gotten home the other night, you realized you couldn’t find your charger for your phone. You’d found a spare, but had forgotten to look for it. When you couldn’t find it after the two days, you called Spencer. 

“Hey,” you greeted. “Did I leave my charger at your place? Maybe by the recliner where I was sitting?”

“Yeah,” he said after some rustling sounds, as he was apparently looking around. “Want me to bring it over?”

“I would come get it, but Roxy’s here for the foreseeable future,” you said. “I’d really appreciate it.”

“Oh,” he said. “Luke dropped the dog off?”

“I picked her up,” you said. “Some kind of emergency with the usual sitter I guess.”

“Oh,” he sounded relieved. “Okay. Yeah I’ll come by in a bit.”

“Thank you,” you said, and hung up.

When he arrived a little less than an hour later, you were surprised by the look of him. The dark circles under his eyes were back with a vengeance. While you were able to cover yours with concealer, he hadn’t been so lucky.

“Shit,” you muttered, unable to contain your surprise. Roxy looked up at you, wondering why you seemed distressed. 

“What?” Spencer asked, looking behind him. 

“Nothing,” you said, moving aside to let him in. “It’s just… you look… tired.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “That would probably be because I am.”

“Nightmares?” you guessed. He pressed his lips together and nodded, not meeting your gaze.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You led him by the hand to your couch. Roxy jumped in your lap, but Spencer sat close by anyway.

“I just… It’s a lot,” he said. 

“What is?”

“Me,” he laughed hollowly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve already told you about…” he gestured to his arm where the scar lay from his kidnapper. “But… I was also drugged and framed for murder,” he said, almost as a question. 

“Okay…” you said evenly, trying to understand how so much could have happened to one person. 

“It’s a long story,” he said, looking at the ground.

“I’ve got nothing but time,” you assured him. He looked up at you and saw you were not lying. 

He told you, then, about his time in prison. He told you what it felt like not to trust his own mind, not to know what actually happened, how it felt to wonder if he had killed someone in cold blood. He told you how he had to resort to terrible things to stay alive in prison, how he almost died several times. 

“I feel like I’m constantly checking over my shoulder, even now,” he said, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears.

Roxy had moved from your lap to quietly sit at Spencer’s feet as if trying to guard him. You moved closer, tucking your knees to your chest and listening intently. You held his hand in yours carefully.

You didn’t want to tell him that you knew exactly how that felt. You didn't want to say that you were also constantly checking over your shoulder to make sure Cameron wasn’t there. You couldn’t. He already had so much to deal with. You couldn't and wouldn't make this about you.

“That’s so fucking hard,” you said, feeling your throat tighten. “I’m sorry.”

He took a breath in and let it out with a few shakes. 

“It is,” he said. “And the nightmares… I can’t really tell anyone about them. The team… they worked so hard to get me out. I can’t let them think they’ve got…”

“What?”

“I don’t know… damaged goods?” Spencer said.

You crawled into his lap to hug him then. You needed to be there, to have him feel you there. You curled into him as you had the night before, legs over his, head cradled in his neck. You took a breath. 

“You are not damaged goods,” you said. “You are a person who has been through hell and back. Not many people could survive what you’ve described to me. Fuck, Spencer, you’re so strong, but you don’t have to be strong alone. I am  _ here _ .”

You said all of this basically into the side of his neck. When you pulled away to look at him, you saw something in in eyes that stalled you. You saw him. Vulnerable, completely. His guard was down. He was there. You were there. Together.

It felt… magnetic, like you should be closer together, but he blinked slowly and sighed. You laid your head back down onto his shoulder and snuggled closer. 

“Thank you,” he nearly whispered.

You just nestled closer in response and the two of you sat there for a few moments in silence.

“Are the nightmares getting worse?” you asked. 

“No,” he said. “Just consistent.”

“I didn’t notice anything when we slept together,” you blushed at your use of the term, as did he. 

“I, uh, didn’t have any those nights,” he admitted. So that was the reason he’d looked well rested.

You caught yourself from saying  _ me either _ but stopped. It wasn't about you.

“Hey,” you said carefully. “I wonder… I sleep a lot better with you too… and I just thought… maybe…” he was leaning forward now, anxious to hear what you had to say. Roxy’s ears perked up. “I just… maybe once a week or something we could… maybe sleep next to each other?”

You blushed, even with your rephrasing, and waited with closed eyes for him to reject you. He sighed with relief.

“That would be amazing,” he said. “I don’t know what it is, it’s fascinating, but if it keeps working… I forgot how nice more than three hours of sleep is.”

“Me too,” you smiled, absolutely relieved he hadn’t shut the idea down. “Want to start tonight, maybe?” you suggested. “We’re finishing up the house tomorrow, so I could use a good night’s sleep for once.”

“Yeah,” Spencer smiled. “Here? Or…” 

“Whatever you’d like,” you said. “Maybe here this time, just since Roxy’s stuff is here?”

“Okay,” he smiled. 

“Yeah?” you laughed nervously. It was a strange arrangement, you were sure, but still, if it meant you could have a dreamless sleep…

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Let me go take care of some stuff today and then I’ll come back tonight, maybe around ten?”

“That would be perfect,” you said. 

You went to Morgan’s house to do a little work on it just by yourself to make sure everything was all set for the next day. Looking around the house, at the new walls, new floor, new cabinets, new everything, you smiled. You had done this. You had taken something old and sad and turned it into a home for your friend. You walked around, Roxy at your heels, and admired your work. You were going to be able to keep doing this, too. Thanks to Morgan, you had a whole new life. You were starting to feel yourself settling down, feeling a little safer than you had since you first moved here.

When you were satisfied that you had done enough to make tomorrow the last day, you headed home. You walked Roxy and made dinner, feeding her and slipping her a little bit of your dinner as well. You snuggled and watched some TV. You were reading when ten o'clock came around, and you heard the knock on the door. The time had flown by with the good book and you were startled. You felt the heat in your cheeks and the twisting of your stomach. Why were you nervous? You’d done this before. Granted, on accident, but still.

You opened the door to see Spencer in a short sleeved loose t-shirt and pajama pants. He had brought a pillow and a small bag with him, and for a moment you were reminded of your childhood slumber parties. 

“Welcome to the best slumber party ever,” you stated, allowing him entry. “Where there will be actual slumber, unlike in your childhood.”

“I never went to any slumber parties,” Spencer laughed. 

“What?” you said, faking outrage. “Wow, bud, you missed out. Or maybe you didn’t. I was always basically hungover from all the candy and the not sleeping,” you shrugged. 

He stood in your living room holding his things. 

“So,” he said carefully. “What do we do?”

You blushed, feeling the heat in your cheeks again. You had changed into what you normally wore for bed, which was a giant shirt and short shorts, and brushed your teeth.

“You gotta get ready for bed?” you asked, pointing to his bag. 

“Yeah, just have to brush my teeth,” he said. 

“Okay, well… I figure we can sleep on the, erm, bed,” you said, not quite meeting his gaze. Why was this so hard? It was for science, and you were adults. “I just… the couch is… smaller? And…”

“Yeah,” he said, saving you. “That's fine.”

“Okay,” you blushed. “I’ll… meet you in there?” you said. He nodded and headed to the bathroom. 

You climbed into bed, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own room. Roxy jumped up and curled up at the bottom, and you pet her while waiting for Spencer. Should you lie down? Maybe read for a little? Suddenly things that came naturally to you seemed like you had to think about them. Why did you care so much? It was just Spencer. 

When he came into the bedroom, he walked slowly, as if to make sure you saw him. You looked up from your phone where you had been distracting yourself with a Buzzfeed quiz, and smiled. 

“Ready for our science experiment?” you chided. He laughed nervously.

“Is that what this is?”

“Kind of?” you guessed. “I mean we’re hoping to find out if us sleeping next to each other causes more restful sleep.”

“If we sleep next to each other, we will sleep better,” Spencer hypothesized. “There are a lot of variables there.”

“Yes, yes, keep talking about science, it’ll put me right out,” you smirked. 

He knew you were kidding and laughed, sitting down on the edge of the bed as if testing to see if it would hold his weight. When he had taken a breath, he slid under the covers. You wondered if his whole body was even on the bed, the way he was laying down. He had put his pillow there beneath him, but he was basically hanging off the side of the bed. You slid down further and looked at him. He was staring at the ceiling.

“Hey,” you whispered. He turned his face to you. “You don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not--”

“You’re like not even on the bed,” you noted. He slid slightly closer to you.

“Do you think it’ll work?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “The other times could have been flukes. Or it could be some weird chemistry thing? Or it could be like when Joey and Ross took great naps together,” you suggested. He looked confused. “The show?  _ Friends _ ?” No recognition. “It is the most famous sitcom possibly ever. Anyway there’s one episode where they take naps together and for some reason they’re like super well rested afterwards. Maybe it’s something like that. We just… I don’t know, are meant to help each other sleep or something.”

You blushed as you said it, as it sounded so weird, but Spencer nodded. 

“We’ll see,” he said.

“I guess so,” you sighed. You turned to get the light. Surrounded by the dark room, you said, “Goodnight.”

“Night,” he said.

And then there was silence. You wished you had a noise machine or something. It was so quiet except for your breathing. You turned on your side and tried to get comfortable. You were sleepy, but your mind kept racing. You kept looking at the clock, and after and hour, you turned onto your back and huffed.

“Still awake?” Spencer whispered. You turned to him, barely able to see him in the dark room. The only illumination came from a space between your curtains that let in a little street lamplight. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You too, huh?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. 

“Does this mean our experiment failed?”

“Not necessarily,” he said. “Like I said, there are a lot of factors. For one, I don't think you drank anything tonight, for another it’s not as late as it was the other times. We’re not on a couch, and…” he trailed off.

“What?”

“We’re not… actually touching.”

“Oh,” you said. “I mean… that seems like the easiest thing to try first. If not I can go get a glass of something after.”

“O-okay,” Spencer breathed. 

“I think when we woke up last time, we were like this,” you said, rolling onto your side and sliding back towards Spencer. 

You felt him tense behind you for a moment, but he relaxed. 

“And your arm was here,” you said, pulling his arm around your waist. “Is this okay?” you asked, suddenly concerned you were forcing this. 

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice almost cracking. 

“Mmm,” you hummed, settling in and wrapping his arm under yours. “Yeah, that’s better. Comfier.”

“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you said. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed, as if that were obvious. 

“Alright,” you said sleepily, already feeling more comfortable and relaxed. Yawning you said goodnight again. But his goodnight was foggy and far away. You were already drifting into sleep.

You woke up to your alarm around eight, and blinked. No nightmares. Spencer was still behind you, holding you tightly. His hand had migrated during the night and now lay quite close to your breasts. You felt your stomach tingle and moved your hand on top of his, giving him a little squeeze to help wake him up. 

“Morning,” you smiled, turning over to face him. 

The way he opened his eyes, slowly, smiling, made your heart leap. He seemed so… happy. He was unguarded in this moment of blissful unawareness while waking up. When he seemed to blink the sleepiness away, his face took on a slightly less blissful look, just slightly guarded. 

“So? Hypothesis was correct?” you asked.    
“Yes,” he smiled, sitting up. “No nightmares for me.”

“And I slept,” you said, keeping up the charade of this being about insomnia rather than your own personal demons.

Spencer sighed happily. 

“I honestly forgot what a difference a good night’s sleep makes.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t completely exhausted.”

Roxy sat up at the bottom of the bed and looked at you.    
“I know, I know,” you said. “Breakfast time.”

Spencer got up with you and grabbed his bag.

“I’ll just change and get out of your hair,” he said.

“You’re welcome to hang around and eat with us,” you said. “I just have to walk her around the block real quick.”

“Okay,” he smiled, seemingly happy for an excuse to stay.

You walked Roxy for a little while, reveling in the warm morning sun on your skin and the presence of the well-rested man beside you. Part of you wanted to hold his hand, if only to feel the same comfort you did last night. But you resisted. He probably would think that was weird, right?

When you were done, you made the two of you breakfast. He left after that so you could get ready for your last day at Morgan’s house.

Morgan met you there, followed by the rest of the boys. You only had to do a few final finishing touches, and you could leave. It would be all ready as soon as Morgan’s stuff was moved in. 

When you were done with the finishing touches, you treated the boys to an afternoon beer and sat on the floor of the living room you were sure would bring Morgan a lot of happiness. 

“We did it, boys,” you marveled. 

“And we can do it again,” Morgan said. 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “If you guys are on board, Morgan and I are thinking of doing this as a regular thing.”

“You know I’m down,” Manny smiled. 

“Me too,” Tim nodded. 

“I’m in,” Ryan said. 

You smiled at your boys. You had truly bonded on this job, had a lot of fun, and done good work. It was nice to know that would continue. You clapped Morgan on the back.

“Now all that’s left is get this man to the altar,” you said.


	10. Chapter 10

After the success of your first night falling asleep together on purpose, you and Spencer decided that once a week wasn’t enough. After the second night of successfully getting eight hours of rest, it was like a drug. You had both forgotten what it was like to be rested, and needed it. Whatever it was that made your bodies and minds relax when you were together, you didn’t care. So long as it kept working.

You slept next to each other for the whole week. By the third day, Luke had taken Roxy back, so it was just the two of you. You were thrilled when you found a box of chocolate waiting for you a few days after he took her back, and wondered if you should text him thank you. You were too distracted by the delicious chocolate to text him though, as it was from a local shop that clearly cared about their craftsmanship, and you soon forgot.

You hadn’t told anyone about your slumber parties, especially not Morgan. You didn’t want him to tease you about something that you knew wasn't happening.

It was… very domestic, and you found yourself… not hating it. You thought you would. You thought you’d be sick of him, or he of you by now, but instead of leaving first thing in the mornings, he would stick around, make breakfast with you. It was the morning of Morgan’s wedding when you realized how comfortable you’d become around each other. 

When he needed to reach something higher up and you were standing in the path of the object, he would rest his hand on your hip for balance. When you watched TV on the couch together before bed you would rest your head on his shoulder and snuggle into him. You found yourself quite happy. You knew the additional hours of sleep and lack of nightmares had helped, but you also enjoyed the feeling of his skin on yours, his smell, his presence in the room even when you were doing separate things. It almost felt as though you were living together. 

Of course, you weren’t. During the day he would go home and work on things he needed to do, and you would go and plan out what you thought your next project with Morgan should be. But still, at night you would go, usually to your place, and be together. 

You were thankful to be well rested the day of Morgan’s wedding. There was enough pressure on you as it were without being drained from nightmares. Spencer had brought what he needed for the wedding over the night before, because you had to be at the church fairly early in the morning and there was no point in going home when you could just drive there together.

You got ready in the bathroom, doing your makeup and hair while he got ready in your bedroom, donning the suit and tie that Morgan’s groomsmen would be wearing. You offered to wear a suit, but Morgan told you to wear whatever you liked, as long as Savannah approved the color. She had, as you wanted to match the black suits of the groomsmen with a black dress. 

You finished your hair and makeup and slid on the dress. You couldn’t zipper it all the way up, however, so you made your way into your bedroom, whose doors were open, to ask for help.

“Zip me up?” you smiled. “Shit,” you breathed. 

He was… beautiful. There was no other word. The morning light from the windows lit him from behind as he turned around to face you. The suit was perfectly tailored, cut to fit him perfectly. The vest, the jacket, the tie. You stopped in your tracks and stared. 

“What, do I have a button missing?” Spencer asked, nervously peering down at his abdomen.

“No,” you laughed. “You just look… very nice.”

He blushed and smiled at you. 

“You look…” he paused and took a breath. You waited nervously. Would he hate the dress? Why did that matter so much to you? Stupid. “You look lovely,” he said. He seemed to mean it, and it was your turn to blush. 

“Well, I might if you zipped me up?” you smirked, turning around. 

The zipper extended down to your mid back, and you waited for him to zip you up. When you didn’t feel anything, you looked behind you, sweeping the hair off your back. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked. 

He seemed stunned. He was just staring at you like he’d never seen a back before. He blinked quickly and cleared his throat. 

“Erm, yeah,” he said, laughing nervously. He quickly zipped up your dress and you smiled at him. 

“Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he said, almost wistfully.

“Alright. Got my purse, got the ring,” you said, finding each item. “Don’t need a coat. Dress has pockets, my phone is in there. Am I missing anything?”

“Keys?”

“In the purse,” you nodded. 

“I think we’re good,” he said. 

You smiled at this domesticity. Was this what it was like to have a friend as a roommate? It felt like there was something more to it.

You drove and found parking in the church. You’d been there a few times to see where it was that Morgan was going, and to go through what you had to do for the ceremony. The couple had decided to forgo the usual rehearsal dinner in favor of making absolutely certain that the entire team could come to the wedding. Vacation time had been hard to come by, and the bureau had completely guaranteed the night and following day off for the team. That in itself was hard to do, let alone another whole night. It also saved a little money for them, something they, and their endless need of diapers, did not take for granted. While Savannah’s parents had offered to pay for the wedding, the couple had wanted to do it on their own for a sense of independence. 

You managed to keep your tears to a minimum during the ceremony. Spencer stood right behind you, and he gave your hand a little squeeze when he saw your wipe your eyes. Your childhood friend was  _ married _ now. You couldn’t have been happier. 

The wedding was flawless. Savannah had done a beautiful job picking out flowers, and her dress was stunning. The church was filled with adoring friends and family, and you could feel the love bursting through the seams of the church walls.

Between the wedding and the reception at Rossi’s house, you had two hours to go home and change if you wished, or hang around with people. You decided to go home and change into something a little more casual as well as to grab your swimsuit. This had been the plan since the previous evening, so Spencer came with you to grab his clothes, although you noticed a conspicuous lack of swimwear. 

You hung around your house for a little while, just resting up for what was sure to be a happy but long evening.

For the reception you donned a summery dress and sandals but kept your makeup and hair done up. Spencer changed into a light long sleeved dress shirt and dark pants. During his changing into the shirt, he had mussed up his hair, and when he came out of your bedroom, you laughed from the couch. 

“What?” he smirked. 

“Hold on,” you said, getting off the couch. 

You came to stand in front of him and slid your hand through his hair, forcing the dissenting follicles back into their rightful places. You stopped when your hand hit the nape of his neck. You paused, looking at him smiling at you. You stopped breathing for a moment. 

“Uh, there,” you said, feeling the blush in your face. You involuntarily looked away from him as if something would happen you couldn't control if you held his gaze.

“Thanks,” he muttered, his gaze now on his shoes.

“Um, should we head over?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Want me to drive in case you wanna drink?”

“Sure,” you nodded. “Thanks.”

“Probably one of the only perks of being with me,” he said, off-hand. 

“What?” you said, stopping him with your hand. 

“What?” he asked, turning around.    
“What’d you say?”

“It’s one of the perks of being friends with me,” he said, though he stuttered through the end of his sentence. 

“Oh,” you said, feeling your heart fall in your chest. You weren’t sure why you were disappointed or what you had hoped he had meant. “I’d say there is far more than just one benefit,” you said, recovering with some effort.

You arrived at Rossi’s as some of the first guests, though no one saw you arrive together. You walked around back to where the tent and tables were set up. Rossi’s lawn was truly huge with beautiful stonework and gardens surrounding his enormous in ground pool. The pool had stonework too, with a waterfall feeding into it. A temporary dance floor had been set up on the grass. The whole place was wrapped head to toe with sparkling string lights, and poles on and over the dance floor allowed dangling string lights. You decided you should become a famous author on true crime immediately.

Garcia and Luke were there, along with Morgan and Savannah, and of course, Rossi. You greeted everyone and grabbed a few hors d'oeuvres. Morgan’s mom and sisters arrived as you were talking with Spencer in the corner. 

“(Y/N)!” You heard a familiar voice say. You saw Morgan’s mother striding towards you. 

Warmth welled up inside you as you went to hug her. 

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you,” you grinned, hugging her tightly. 

She took a step back and looked at you with a smile. 

“And this must be the beaux?” she asked, looking at Spencer. 

Spencer cleared his throat and you flushed. 

“Oh, uh, no… I, uh, well, this is Spencer,” you muttered. 

“I used to work with Morgan,” he said.    
“Oh, Spencer!” she said. “Of course, I’m sorry, I should have recognized you from the pictures I’ve seen. I’m sorry.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Spencer smiled, though he didn’t shake her hand.

You could still feel the heat in your cheeks, and saw that Spencer’s features mirrored yours. You wondered if he thought it was silly that Morgan’s mother had thought that. 

After Morgan had greeted his family, he walked over to the two of you, urging you to go get food before the lines started and sit down. You did as you were told, scooting in to begin the buffet before anyone else. You got your food and grabbed a table. The whole thing was very informal, and there were no seating arrangements. You just sat down at the table closest to where the dessert would be, Spencer’s idea. 

As you took a huge bite of your food, Savannah walked over. She had changed into an elegant white summer dress, and still looked radiant. She was ushering over a very pretty girl who wore glasses and a pink dress. You recognized her from the wedding ceremony.

“Hi guys,” she smiled. She looked more at Spencer than at you. “I want you to meet my friend Sasha Granger. We go way back, all the way to high school,” she said. “She has a PhD in engineering and is working on some pretty interesting projects. She was also president of the chess club, and she knows a few card tricks,” Savannah said, raising her eyebrows. It felt as though she were a game show host introducing a contestant. 

“God, it’s like you’re reading my resume,” Sasha laughed, hiding her face behind her hands and laughing.

“I just thought you guys might… have a lot in common,” she shrugged and feigned innocence. “I’ll let you be.”

You felt nauseous. Sasha sat down next to Spencer and smiled. She was really pretty, and somehow her shyness added to it. 

“So, you have a PhD in engineering too?” she asked Spencer. 

“Yeah,” he said, almost sounding unsure of that. “And… math and chemistry,” he added, looking at the table.

“Oh, I almost went for math!” she said, excited. 

“Really?” he asked. “What changed your mind?”

You took a deep breath and tried to understand why your face was suddenly hot and you felt like you wanted to run away. 

“Excuse me,” you muttered. 

You headed straight to the bar on the other side of the lawn, across the dance floor, where Rossi sat, chatting with Luke.

“Got any scotch?” you asked, trying to sound normal.

The two men looked at each other and you could tell they knew something was wrong. Rossi didn’t say anything though, and he poured you a drink. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking a big sip. 

“Where are you sitting?” Luke asked.

You looked at the table behind you and saw Spencer staring at you. His attention was drawn away by Sasha’s hand on his arm. Your stomach turned again but you forced another sip of scotch down your throat. It had been like a wave, a sudden urge of discomfort. 

“Want to go sit down?” Luke asked. “I’ll just get some food and meet you.”

He looked concerned and you wondered what your face actually looked like to warrant the expression.

“Yeah,” you managed to say.

You followed him until he broke off to go get food. You sat down where you had been, next to Spencer.

“Oh, good, you’re back,” he smiled genuinely. He looked nervous, like he’d suddenly broken out in a sweat. 

“Didn’t think you’d even notice my absence,” you tried to sound like you were joking. It looked like you’d succeeded. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so rude,” Sasha said. “I know Savannah was just trying to be nice. I’m not very good at parties so she always tries to find me someone who knows anything about engineering. It’s like the only thing I’m good at talking about. Anyway, what’s your name?” she asked. 

You gave her your name and told her it was totally fine. 

“And what do you do?”

“Construction,” you said. “Remodeling mostly.”

“Wow, very cool,” she said. 

And she seemed to mean it. Still, you felt quite small at this table. Two PhDs and tons of knowledge between the two of them and then there was just… you. Luke joined you, not aiding your failing sense of confidence.

Sasha introduced herself to Luke, and while the two of them were talking about engineering in the army, Spencer whispered to you.

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you said, though you still felt like your heart was in your stomach. “Why?”

“You kind of… ran off.”

“Sorry, wanted a drink,” you shrugged.

You knew he knew you were lying, but he didn’t push it. He just pressed his lips together into a thin line and looked concerned.

You made it through dinner with good conversation with Luke, but every time Spencer would talk to you or anyone at the table, Sasha would somehow steer the conversation back to engineering or math, or something you were unable to talk about. It wasn’t necessarily alienating, and a lot of time other people at the table chimed in and asked her questions, but to you it felt like sitting with the high school kids when you were in kindergarten. 

When you were done with dinner, Savannah’s father went to the dance floor. He held a mic in his hands that was connected to the DJ speakers.

“Good evening, friends and family,” he smiled. “Oh behalf of my daughter and son in law, I would like to welcome the bride and groom and their bridal party to the dance floor.” You looked at Spencer and the two of you rose, followed by the rest of the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Sasha, thankfully, stayed behind. 

“Dance with me?” Spencer asked. 

You felt immense relief wash over you. 

“Yes please,” you smiled. 

“My daughter is honoring my request of a first dance of a waltz, but in compromise, we will also be playing the couple’s favorite song, for their second half of their first dance.”

You thought it was nice that Savannah was honoring her parents’ wishes, and that she wanted to share the first dance with all of her closest friends.

You and Spencer assumed the position. 

“Ready?” he asked with a small smirk. 

“We’ll see,” you laughed. 

The music began and muscle memory took hold for the most part. Spencer guided you easily through the steps and you were able to even watch as Morgan swirled Savanah around. You found yourself smiling and not having to watch your feet. 

The music changed over to the slower song the couple at chosen, and you slowed your dancing.    
“I didn’t even step on your toes,” you smiled excitedly. 

He laughed and pulled you closer. You wrapped your arms around him, and felt his arms close around your waist. You rested your head on his should and swayed with him. He pulled his head back slightly to whisper in your ear. 

“I’m so glad we met,” he said. 

And that’s when it hit you. It felt like your brain was making new pathways, like they had discovered passageways they hadn’t known before leading right to the center of your chest. 

You had fallen for Spencer Reid. 

The rush of feeling was nearly overwhelming and you felt your eyes start to brim with tears. This wasn’t just friendship. There was a reason you wanted to be around him all the time, a reason that you felt completely safe with him. There was a reason that you felt nauseous when you saw a girl like Sasha talk to him. It was because you loved this man. And you could never have him. 

As quickly as you had realized your feelings, you tried to dismiss them. Hugging him tighter to you, you realized that he would never feel the same way. While he might trust you, and for some reason feel that same safety you felt while sleeping next to you, he would never feel this way about you. How could he? How could he when there were girls like Sasha out there? Or girls like the ones he taught at the university? How could he ever fall for someone like you? Someone who was in no way a genius. You thought about his friends, and how impressive they all were. You didn’t fit in here. Somehow your friendship with Morgan had pulled you into this world and allowed you to live in for a while, but this couldn’t be yours. You were normal, average. He was so far above you in so many ways, and you loved him for it, but you couldn’t be up there with him.

He deserved so much more. You felt one tear spill over and wiped it off your cheek. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm the storm inside you.

“Me too,” you finally said, realizing you had not responded to him.

You sniffed slightly, hoping it was quiet enough to not sound like you were quietly crying. 

Tonight.

You would allow these feelings for tonight. After that, you would quash them. You could still be friends. You could still see him, support him. Maybe with practice, even encourage him to date Sasha, or someone like her. You could do it if it meant he was happy.

But you would give yourself tonight. Get it out of your system, and move on.

You had never felt like this before, and your body felt like it adjusted to it just as much as your mind had. You felt your temperature return to normal, feeling the heat leave your cheeks. You buried your face in his neck and took one breath as the song ended. 

You just hoped your eyes didn’t look too red. You pulled away and allowed yourself one look at him. He was glowing. His smile only faded when he looked at your face. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, hands still around your waist, resting on the small of your back. 

“Nothing,” you dismissed him. “Why?”

He looked doubtful, and was about to say something when Morgan walked up to you.    
“May I have the next dance, Skates?” he asked.

Grateful for the distraction, you nodded, not looking back as you heard Sasha ask Spencer for a dance. You dared not look back. You could feel the weight on your heart, pressing down at the thought of him wrapped around her. As another waltz played, you and Morgan easily danced around the floor. 

“So, you’re married now,” you said, trying to focus on the present and not the swirling of emotions in your chest. “How does that feel?”

“Feels the same as every other day,” he said. “I’ve felt married to that woman since the day I met her.”

You laughed. 

“That’s so lame, Derek Morgan,” you said. “And here I thought you would die a bachelor surrounded by babes.”

“I’ve matured,” Morgan said with smile. “A good woman helps with that.”

“A good woman helps with a lot of things,” you added. 

“True.”

You could see Sasha and Spencer out of the corner of your eye but you focused on Morgan. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you said. 

His lips pressed together and you could tell he was trying not to cry. He pulled you close as the song ended and hugged you. You hid your face in his chest and tried not to cry too. 

An actual non-fancy-dancing song came on then, and you looked at Morgan, surprised. 

“We compromised,” he smirked. “Half fancy songs, half our music.”

“I thought you guys paid for your own wedding so you would be independent,” you frowned. 

“Turns out sound systems are expensive,” Morgan laughed. “So a compromise on both independence and music choices were made.”

It was a strange mix of music for sure. You found yourself browsing the buffet table for most of the night, mingling with the others who didn’t want to dance as much. You hung out mostly with Garcia and Prentiss on the sides of the dance floor, and you felt the scotch hitting you pretty hard by the middle of the night. Every time you found Spencer, his eyes were on you, but when they met, he would look back at Sasha or Morgan, or whoever he was talking to. You weren’t really trying to avoid him, but you also didn’t want to allow yourself to get too close. While you were allowing yourself to feel things for him tonight, you also didn’t want to torture yourself too much. 

The happy couple cut their wedding cake, and dessert was served. You didn’t eat at the table, however, and Sasha seemed content to catch up with Savannah, leaving you and Spencer to eat together, eating off plates while standing near the bar.

“Good cake,” you muttered with a full mouth. 

“Mmhm,” he said, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. 

You laughed at how much cake he’d fit into his mouth and he did too, forcing it down to breathe.

You forgot about your worries for a while when you were just talking with him and the team. It was nice, being with them. The lights that hung around the yard were the only source of illumination now that the sun had set, and it was starting to get slightly cooler. 

“Anyone for the heated pool?” Morgan asked. He had already changed and had slung a towel across his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Let me go change.” You looked back at Spencer, knowing full well he hadn’t brought a suit. “You coming?” you asked anyway. 

“I’ll just sit at the edge and dip my toes in,” he said. 

You blinked, realizing that of course he wouldn’t have come in. He would have had to take off his shirt for that. He would have had to reveal to strangers all of his scars. 

“I’m sorry,” you said suddenly. “I forgot why you… I’ll stay out with you,” you said, putting your suit back in your bag. 

“No, don’t. Please, go in,” he said. And he meant it. 

“Okay,” you said, but seeing everyone else heading to the pool you added, “But let me know if you wanna go hang somewhere else.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, though you could tell he appreciated it.

You changed and headed into the pool. As promised, Spencer dipped his feet in, getting splashed quite a bit by the slightly drunk party goers. Still, it was a big enough pool that he didn't get drenched, and mostly people just milled around, swimming and laughing together. Eventually a lot of people got out to go get more drinks or dessert. Rossi had requested no drinks near the pool for fear of glasses breaking, that went for plates too. After most of the people had left, it was just you and Spencer. It was late, and a lot of people had gone inside to hang out on the couches and listen to stories that Rossi had started to tell. No one seemed to notice the the two introverts near the pool. 

You were in the water, by the side of the pool, resting your arms on the stone and looking up at Spencer. 

His hair was messy, thrown about by dancing and the wind. He seemed content. 

“Come in the water,” you beckoned. 

You had notice his reluctance to look at you while you were in a bikini, and wondered why. You thought for a moment that he might think your body was gross. Maybe you had cellulite you couldn’t see or something. But it didn’t feel like that for some reason. It felt like something else.

You got his attention with your request and he laughed. 

“I’m wearing a suit,” he reminded you. 

“Take it off,” you shrugged. “Just the jacket and the vest,” you said. “Who cares.”

He took a breath and humored you, slipping out of the two top layers of clothes. He wore only his white dress shirt and pants now. 

“Come on,” you smirked. “The water’s warm.”

You floated onto your back, still looking at him as he slipped down into the water. He ducked under to wet his hair and then swam a little towards you. You let your feet hit the floor. He swam dangerously close to you, letting his knees bend so he was level with you, his shoulders just under the water, letting himself float.

His hair was slicked back, but he ran a hand over it anyway. Then he floated towards you slightly, or you floated towards him, it was hard to tell. 

Your heart beat in your chest so wildly you thought you could feel the vibrations in the water.

You were drawn to him, as if a current were pulling you together. You were so close to him now, your faces mere inches from each other. His hands landed on your hips just as yours wrapped around his neck. 

You couldn’t breathe, your chest was so tight. Just tonight. Just tonight. 

You saw his eyes flicker to your lips and your heart stuttered. His hands moved on the small of your back making your stomach twist pleasantly. 

The door to Rossi’s house opened loudly, and the two of you pulled apart as if caught in the act of a crime.

You both turned towards the door to see Garcia animatedly waving you to come in.

“Come on you guys! Savannah and Morgan are leaving.”

“So soon?” you asked, feeling your heart settle slightly in your chest. 

“They do have a little tiny baby to get to bed,” she reminded you cheerfully. 

They had brought the baby to the wedding, but mostly he had remained in Morgan’s mother’s arms. He must have napped enough to get to be out this late, but you were sure they wanted to get him some actual sleep. 

You didn’t dare look at Spencer lest the heat in your cheeks return, so you simply got out and found a towel, hearing Spencer do the same, and followed Garcia inside. 

Morgan and Savannah were standing by the door saying their goodbyes. Little Hank was in Savannah’s arms. The couple looked happy but tired. You said your goodbyes.    
“Stay as long as you like,” Morgan announced. “Rossi said he won’t kick anyone out till the sun rises.”

It was a little past midnight, and after the moment in the pool, you couldn’t allow yourself to stay. If you were being honest, you were about to kiss that man. And then what? You would have to deal with the awkwardness. You’d have to deal with him quietly explaining that he didn’t like you like that, that he just wanted to be friends. And then you wouldn't be friends because that’s never how it turned out after something like that.

While getting changed, you realized that  A) you were too drunk to drive, B) that’s why Spencer was here, and C) that you had planned to spend the night together as usual.

You took a moment in the bathroom to contemplate this. You promised yourself only tonight. But you couldn’t just stop your sleeping arrangements, not only because you didn’t want the nightmares to return, but also because he would think something was up, and you couldn't think of an excuse. You would have to train yourself to deal with it. Disassociate and focus not on how you felt about him at all. You could do it, you thought. It might just take some practice. 

You found Spencer in the living room. He had borrowed an old sweatshirt of Rossi’s and some sweatpants. 

“Ready to go?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. 

“Leaving already?” Rossi asked. “Yeah, Spencer’s going to drive me home,” you said. 

“Well, thank you for coming to Casa Rossi for the reception.”

“Thank you for hosting,” you smiled, hugging him. 

“Thanks, Rossi,” Spencer said, hugging him as well. 

You said the rest of your goodbyes, wondering where Sasha went to. Perhaps she left while you were getting changed. You were just thankful that you didn’t run into her, and you were able to get to Spencer’s car easily. You hadn’t seen Luke either, and you reminded yourself to thank him for the chocolate the next time you saw him.

You buckled in and settled into the seat. The car was warm, and Spencer looked over at you with what you hoped was fondness. You looked up at him sleepily. 

“Let’s go home,” he said, turning the car on. 

Just tonight. Just tonight you could let yourself believe that he meant a home for the two of you. A home that you shared together. 

You arrived at your apartment. The car ride had lulled you a little, and you were very sleepy. You were still pretty drunk and all you wanted to do was to get out of your dress and crawl into bed. On the way to the bed, you simply shed your dress, leaving your bra and underwear on as you slipped under the covers. 

When you didn't feel Spencer slide in behind you, you called out for him. Your eyes refused to open.    
“Spence,” you moaned.

“I’m here,” he answered, quietly slipping into bed. 

You were startled when you felt his bare chest against your back. He had always worn shirts to bed, even when it was warmer out. But not tonight. 

You were too drunk to contemplate how you would work this out. How you would feel his skin on your skin, feel his body pressed against yours, feel his arm wrap around you, and not feel the swelling of love in your chest that you did now.

You would have to find a way. But not tonight. Tonight you let yourself believe that he loved you too. Just for tonight.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

You awoke to the morning light coming into the room. You blinked, opening your eyes slowly, and remembering. You tensed slightly. You remembered. 

The man you loved was wrapped around you right now, though not in the context you might have liked. You blushed, realizing how little clothes you were both wearing. You, out of disregard for anything other than sleep, had decided to simly wear your bra and underwear to bed. You weren’t sure what inspired Spencer to rid the shirt that he had always worn to bed, but now you could feel his bare chest on your back, feel his arm wrapped around your stomach. You wanted more than anything to enjoy this feeling, but you didn’t let yourself. You had your night. You wouldn’t tease your heart with imaginings any longer. 

Carefully, you slipped out of his hold without waking him. You stood for a moment and looked at him. He was sleeping peacefully, hair tousled by the night, but lightly. The morning light was yellowish and bathed him in a warm glow. You hadn’t gotten a good look at his chest the night you’d spilled wine on him, but he was beautiful. He wasn’t muscled or toned, but he was… Spencer. Bare and vulnerable and beautiful.

You almost slapped yourself. This was exactly the kind of thing you had to look out for. You couldn't let yourself stare at him. You would have to recognize these moments of weakness and pull away. You would have to guard yourself against your own heart. It was for the best, you promised yourself.

You felt the need to cover yourself before he woke up. Sure, he’d seen you in a similar amount of clothing the previous night in your bikini, but this was different. You were alone. In your bedroom. If you stayed like this you were likely to encourage the feelings you already had. Instead, you donned a huge shirt and some light sweatpants. 

Your rustling woke him, and he stirred, feeling blindly around the empty sheets for you. Finding nothing, he opened his eyes. You smiled at him and he smiled back. 

“Morning,” he said, his voice scratchy. He sat up a little but then sunk back into the covers. 

You looked away, catching yourself admiring him again. 

“Morning,” you mumbled.

He needed to get out. You needed to be alone to figure out how you were going to deal with this. One look at him and you might just spill your guts, regardless of the consequences. You kept your gaze on anything but him. 

“Hey, um, I have some stuff to take care of today, would you mind…”

It took him a moment to get the hint. The two of you had spent most mornings together. 

“Oh, um, sure, yeah,” he said, getting up. You didn’t dare look. “Let me just put some clothes on. I have to go get started on a research paper for the university anyway,” he said. 

“Cool,” you said, longing to ask him all about it, but stopping yourself. 

You went to the kitchen and tried to focus on making some coffee.

You heard him rustling around in your bedroom, and without your permission, your mind allowed itself to pretend that he lived here, that you were getting ready together to do something as a couple. You mentally slapped yourself as he walked out of the bedroom.

“Well, thanks for a great night,” he said. 

“Thanks for teaching me so it was a great night,” you smiled. 

“Anytime,” he laughed. 

You looked down at your coffee. 

“So, see you tonight?” he asked shyly. 

Damn. You couldn’t say no. For one, you needed the sleep, you’d gotten too used to it. And for another, you couldn’t afford to arouse suspicions. 

“Yeah,” you said.

“Usual time?” 

You should say no. You should at least tell him to come late, so you wouldn’t have time to hang out. But your mouth had other ideas.

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

He smiled and made his way to the door. He stopped there, like he wanted to say something, but apparently thought better of it, because he slipped out with a wave moments later.

You didn’t do anything when he left. All you could feel was the hole in your heart. You didn’t let yourself cry. How had you gained so much and not gained anything at all? You’d never felt the way you did last night. You really loved him. Goddamnit. Is this what people felt all the time? 

Sasha’s face kept flashing in your mind, reminding you of how imperfect you were, how not right for him you would be. 

But you loved him. And you could be his friend.

When dinner time came around, he showed up with Chinese food. You couldn’t stop yourself from greeting him with a hug and smiling like an idiot. He seemed just as pleased to see you, though you knew it was because of friendship for him. 

During dinner his phone kept buzzing nonstop.

“You got research buddies or something?” you asked, as he turned his phone on silent. 

He blushed and put his phone away. 

“Uh, not quite,” he said shyly. 

“Oh, what then?” you asked. “Your phone never goes off like that. Is some crazy news going down?”

“No,” he said softly. “It’s… Sasha.”

“Oh,” you dropped your fork. Picking it up, you tried to recover. “Sasha from the wedding?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. 

“Yeah… Savannah gave her my number I guess… She’s sort of been texting me non stop for a while.”

“Have you… responded?” you asked. 

“No,” he laughed. 

Your heart sighed. Then, realizing you were being selfish, you forced yourself to say the next words.

“You should… text her back,” you managed, though your lips fought you.

He looked surprised. 

“I should?” he asked. 

“Yeah… why not?” you said. 

“I don’t know…”

“Spence, she’s beautiful and smart and… you should give it a shot. She’s clearly into you.”

It was poisoning you saying these things.

“I doubt that,” he said. 

“Your phone is literally blowing up,” you said, forcing a smile. “She is.”

“I don’t know if I’m… I don’t know,” he said. 

“You guys had so much in common,” you said. “Why not try it?”

He sighed and looked at his phone. Your heart sank. He looked at it, hovered his thumbs over the keys, and then stopped, pocketing his phone. 

“Maybe later,” he shrugged. 

His lack of enthusiasm made you happier than it should have. Was this what it was going to be like from now on? Just quietly dying inside while you tried to find happiness for him?

You managed to get through dinner with his phone on silent instead of the constant reminder of the woman he was probably supposed to be having dinner with. You watched TV after that, but you had made another rule. You couldn’t snuggle with him. If you were going to have to sleep next to him, you wouldn’t allow yourself any more physical contact. That was your quota for the night. Instead of snuggling, you busied your hands with your phone or the remote, and stuck to the side of the couch. A few times he leaned over a little, or shuffled closer, but you resisted the urge to lay your head on his shoulder or lap as you had done before.

You hoped he didn’t notice. He didn’t say anything anyway. When you were ready for bed, you both donned the usual pajamas, as if last night’s lack of clothing was only a dream.

He crawled into bed behind you and you closed your eyes and took a breath, as if preparing to go underwater as he wrapped himself around you.

Maybe just at night. Maybe just at night you would let yourself feel. Because with his arms wrapped around you, his smell, his chest against you, you couldn’t stop it. You felt the connection between the two of you, and maybe it was stronger on your side, but just at night you could pretend. You didn’t have to look at his face and be reminded of just how perfect he was, just how much he didn’t belong with you. You could pretend that he wanted to be with you too.

“You okay?” he whispered, giving you chills. 

“Yeah,” you said, resting your hand over his. “Why?”

“You seem… tense,” he said, and nuzzled his face into your hair. Your body exploded.

“I’m fine,” you laughed. “Just tired.”

“Mmm,” he said sleepily, and hugged your closer.

You were so fucked. You tried to stay awake and remind yourself that you needed to keep things straight in your mind. But you couldn’t and were quickly pulled into sleep.

It was your turn to wake up alone that morning. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw Spencer through the half-closed door in the kitchen. He was rustling around making breakfast. You collapsed back down onto the bed and hid your face in the covers. Why did he have to make this so damn difficult? It was like he was asking your mind to pretend you were dating. 

You threw on a sweatshirt and entered the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, rubbing your eyes and yawning. 

“Morning,” he smiled at you, handing you a plate with some eggs and bacon on it.    
“To what do I owe this surprise?” you asked. 

He shrugged. 

“Just felt like it.”

You gave him a smile that was tinged with just enough sadness for him to tilt his head to the side. 

“What?” he asked. “Did you not want eggs?”

_ No, I want you. _

“What, no the eggs are great,” you said, trying to use more enthusiasm in your voice than necessary to compensate. Your heart was heavy. 

“Oh, good,” he said, relieved. “You looked… disappointed or something, for a second.”   
“No, oh my god, thank you so much, I’m sorry, I’m just… still asleep.”

He didn’t look convinced, but nodded and slipped some eggs onto his plate. 

You ate breakfast together, and you did your best not to let your emotions get in the way. You wanted to enjoy your time with him. You’d get over this crush, if that’s what you could call it, and you’d go back to being friends. It would just take time.

The next few days played out the same as usual for you. While Morgan was away on his honeymoon, you didn’t do much work. You just looked for houses to flip online, but once you’d made a list, you didn’t have much else to do. Luke had dropped Roxy off one afternoon, and yet again you forgot to thank him for the chocolate he’d left for you last time. You were about to text him, but Roxy started whining for your attention, and you put your phone away for a while, forgetting again.

The nights were the same as they had been since the wedding. You allowed yourself a few minutes to feel what you were feeling for Spencer, but tried your best to block them during the rest of the day. You noticed he kept his phone on silent, but you saw the light going on and off in his pocket often. He never seemed to respond to it though. You wondered if he waited until he wasn't with you to respond to Sasha. 

When he was with you one night eating dinner, you couldn’t help but bring it up as he had forgotten to mute his phone. As he was putting it on silent, you remarked on it.

“Someone’s really trying to get a hold of you,” you said, your stomach knotting unpleasantly. 

“Yeah,” he half-smiled. 

“Is it important?” you asked. “Don’t feel like you can’t call someone just ‘cause I’m here.”

“Oh, it’s just… Savannah,” he said. 

“Oh,”  you breathed, feeling somewhat relieved. “What does she want?”

“She keeps bugging me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze. “She wants me to ask that girl Sasha on a date.”

He managed to meet your gaze and it felt like some kind of question, though his inflection hadn’t changed.

“Oh,” you said again, sitting back in your chair. You could feel your heart deflate in your chest.

“Some of them are Sasha,” he admitted.    
“I bet you guys have a lot to talk about,” you said, trying your best to sound excited for him.

And you should be. You knew he would never be with you, and why should he be? You could see him with Sasha. She was everything he needed. She knew so much about subjects you knew nothing about, subjects that Spencer had dedicated his life to studying. She could keep up with him. You were sure with time, just has he had with you, she could be a confidant. She would probably be better at that too, you realized. Feeling very low, you tried to refocus and point your enthusiasm at Spencer. You wanted him to be happy right? That’s what you wanted when you felt the way you did about him.

“You should do it,” you said. It was worse than the first time you’d suggested it to him. Way worse. It was like asking him to shoot you in the chest.

He blinked and looked oddly disappointed. 

“Yeah?” he asked.    
“I mean, if you want to,” you suggested. “She’s really pretty, and nice… and you guys have a lot in common.”

“I don’t think I’d be a very good date,” he said. 

“You never know till you try.”

“You know how I know I wouldn’t be good at… wrestling? Or weight lifting? It’s like that,” he smirked. 

“You should have seen her at the wedding,” you said. And it hurt to relive it, the way she looked at him… it was the same way you looked at him. “I know I’m not a profiler, but… body language and all that… it was there.”

He pressed his lips together. 

“I think she could make you happy,” you said. It felt like the words were choking you on their way out.

He looked at his phone and paused. Savannah texted again. 

“It would get Savannah off my back,” he sighed. 

You swallowed hard and fought back the urge to cry. This was fine. This was what was eventually going to happen anyway. You had just thought you could have lived in your fantasy world for a little while longer. But it was okay. Roxy came over to you and nudged your hand. She knew, and you thanked her by rubbing behind her ear. You were morbidly thankful Luke had been on a long case this week.

Spencer tapped away at his phone and then pocketed it. 

“Alright, set something up for tomorrow,” he said. 

“Good,” you managed. “Dinner? Or…”

“Just lunch,” he said. 

There was a pause. Would it be weird if he went on a date and then came back here to sleep? You weren’t sure Sasha would be cool with that idea. Still, it was just a casual date. Maybe you could keep this arrangement until it got serious… You felt yourself go pale thinking about it. You knew you were getting ahead of yourself but you couldn't help it. He would eventually leave and not come back. He would eventually find someone, if not Sasha, someone else. And you would be alone again. With the nightmares.

You heard him call your name and you snapped back to the present.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He had come over from his seat across the table to kneel beside you. 

“Hm? Yeah sorry, just spaced,” you said, though you could feel the water in your eyes threatening to spill and the paleness of your face.

He brushed his thumb across your cheek, his face riddled with concern. 

“I thought you might be… having some kind of anxiety attack or something,” he said. “You look…”

“I’m fine,” you promised, forcing a smile. “I, um, can I just, I’m just going to run to the bathroom,” you said. 

You didn’t wait for him to respond, and pushed past him to get to the bathroom. You shut the door and just laid your hands on the sink, letting your head hang. This was ridiculous. This was your first crush in forever, but it was like seeing color for the first time. Somehow since you’d realized what this was, it was drowning you. The thought of him with anyone else. The thought of you being left alone to face everything without him… You were having an anxiety attack, he was right. You tried to focus on your breathing. You closed your eyes and felt the sink beneath your hands, the tile beneath your feet. You felt the weight of your clothes as they hung your body, the strands of hair brushing against your face. You slowly came back to yourself and looked at yourself in the mirror.

You could do this. Just push it all down. Focus on him. Be happy for him. You could do it. 

You flushed the toilet and washed your hands in the hope of selling him that you hadn’t gone to the bathroom to deal with the anxiety you’d had. When you came out he was wringing his hands and his head jerked up when you came out.

“You okay?” he asked.    
“I’m fine,” you smiled. “Really, it’s just a weird… I don’t know, just a weird mood all of the sudden. Maybe it’s my period or something,” you said. An oldie but a goodie excuse.

He still didn’t look convinced, but didn’t say anything. 

“Want to head to bed early? Just relax?” he offered. 

You nodded. The two of you got ready for bed. It was still pretty early, and while you knew you’d regret the allowances later, you let yourself be happy with him. You let yourself snuggle, laugh, smile with him. And you felt good. You just talked. It was all stupid stuff that didn’t matter, but it was fun and he made you laugh. He knew  _ everything _ about everything and you didn’t think you could ever run out of things to talk about. Still, you wondered if he was slightly bored. You wondered if he longed to have long academic discussions about math and science and all manner of genius topics. He could have that with Sasha. Your gut twisted.

“We should probably get to sleep,” you remarked as it had started to get late.

“Mm,” he agreed, looking at you with sleepy, happy eyes. 

You sighed, letting yourself trace his jawline with your hand before realizing what you were doing and pulling away, saying goodnight, and turning over before he could ask what the hell that was.

For the first time, you couldn’t fall asleep next to him. You felt him fall asleep quickly, felt his breathing slow, and his body relax. But you couldn’t. When you did, hours later, you dreamt of him marrying Sasha while you sat on the floor of the church crying.

 

***

 

You woke up late, as neither of you had set an alarm. Your eyes shot open, immediately awake. Today was the day. You blinked and tried to calm your already anxious mind. Maybe the date wouldn’t go well. Maybe they wouldn’t have a good time and he wouldn’t like her. You felt him still asleep behind you, holding you close to him. Would he sleep next to Sasha like this eventually? Would she wake up in his arms, kiss him, tell him good morning? 

You felt sick.

You laid there for a few minutes before Spencer woke. You wondered if his body had registered your miniscule movements and reacted by waking. He nuzzled his head into your neck and sighed, still half asleep. Your heart did flips but you warned it to cut it out.

“Morning,” you said softly. 

“Mmmnng,” he mumbled sleepily.

You glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. 

“You should probably get going if you want to make your… date,” you said. It was easier when you didn’t have to look at him. You slipped off the bed, and out of his arms. 

He sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. You allowed yourself a glance at him. When you looked at him, it was like smelling something from your childhood or remembering a book from a long time ago. Something about him just felt so familiar and so natural. 

“Maybe I’ll just cancel,” he said, closing his eyes again and coming dangerously close to falling asleep again.

You wanted to encourage this, but you couldn’t. What kind of person would you be if you selfishly sabotaged his happiness?

“It’ll be fine,” you promised weakly. “She likes you, she wants to see you.”

He lazily looked over at you and it felt like lightning hit your chest. He sat up and looked at the sheets, feeling them between his fingers. He looked like he was going to say something, but then he just nodded. 

“I should go home and get ready,” he said, as if dreading it.

You nodded, not trusting your voice anymore. 

Before he left, he hugged you, and you felt something. It felt… sad. It felt like he was going off to war or something. Like he was being drafted. You knew you were just projecting your own feelings onto him, but still, something felt off.

He left, and Roxy whined at the door. 

“Same,” you sighed. “Come on, let’s go for a walk somewhere.”

You grabbed some breakfast to go and drove to a park. You walked with Roxy, clearing your mind and trying to do anything not to imagine their date. What would she wear? What would he? Would he have dressed to impress, or did he not care what he looked like for her? She wouldn’t care what he was wearing, only about that beautiful brain of his. At least there was that. She didn’t like him just for his looks. 

They were probably laughing together at some science joke that would have gone over your head. Or they were deep in conversation about things that would impact the world’s technology. You shook your head, clearing the vivid images of her hand on his, his smile directed at her. You focused on Roxy and the walk back to your car. You’d walked for almost two hours. 

Feeling a little tired, you went home and just watched TV for a while. Spencer texted you around dinner time and asked if he could bring some pizza over. 

You didn't want to hear about the date. You wanted to pretend it never happened. Still, he would want to talk about it, you guessed. Or if he didn’t you were sure you would be able to see the extra spring in his step, the light in his eyes.

When he opened the door, he was holding pizza and chocolate. 

“Wow, I didn’t expect this,” you laughed, taking the chocolate.

“Oh, it was left by your door,” Spencer said. It was the same local shop as last time. Luke.    
“Oh, it’s Luke’s way of thanking me for watching Roxy,” you said. “I keep forgetting to thank him, I’ll send him a text now before I forget.”

_ Thanks for the chocolate, really not necessary, but amazing. _

Spencer laid the pizza and chocolate on the table and sighed. You couldn’t force yourself to ask. 

“Please don’t ever make me do that again,” Spencer said with a smile.

Your heart lifted and you felt a smirk coming on. 

“What happened?”

“It was awful,” he laughed, covering his face. 

“Why?” you asked, feeling the giddiness in your voice.

“She literally would not stop talking about engineering. I think she wasn’t kidding when she said it was the only thing she knows how to talk about to other people.”

“I thought you liked that stuff?” you asked. 

“Not for an entire relationship,” he chuckled. “And she wasn’t just nervous either. Her body language was relaxed and open. I think she just… really loves the stuff. Doesn’t have much else going on I guess. Which is fine but… I don’t think she was really there, you know? Like when people are half listening for you just waiting until they can talk again?”

You nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Anyway, she wanted to go back to her place,” he made a face. “But… I told her I didn’t think it was going to work out.”

You suppressed your smile. This was better than you had ever imagined. No. It wasn’t. Because he wasn’t happy. Or was he? He was smiling at you. He certainly didn’t seem upset about it. Part of you wondered if he maybe felt the same as you did, just for a moment, before your doubts came rushing in.

Your phone buzzed and you read the text from Luke.   
_ Wish I could take credit, but unfortunately I am not that thoughtful. I’ll treat you to froyo when I’m back? _

You stared at your phone in confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked. 

You pressed your lips together and stared at the box of chocolates. Why did they feel so familiar?

“Luke didn’t send the chocolates,” you said, half in a daze. Things were churning in the back of your mind.

“Oh,” Spencer said. “There’s no note on them.”

“Yeah,” you said, walking over to them. “Local shop. Chocolate…”

You picked up the box and immediately dropped it. It came back in a wave, rushing over and drowning you. Cameron. It had been a different chocolate shop. It had been almost a year ago. But it was the same. 

You felt your body go cold. It was just like back then. Your first date with Cameron. You’d told him about your love of chocolate, and he’d sent you a box from the local place after your first date. Then when you had rejected him, the boxes kept coming. One a week until you moved.

Somehow you found yourself on the floor, only realizing it when you hands felt the cold tile. Someone was lifting you up, leading you to the couch. 

“Are you okay?” you heard him ask. 

His hand was cupping your face, his worried features in your view. He said your name a few times. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“He knows where I live.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your lovely comments ❤️


	12. Chapter 12

“Who knows where you live?” Spencer asked, desperation seeping into his words like rain into the earth.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” you said, managing to meet his gaze. 

He sat down next to you, sliding the hand that held your face to hold your hand. 

“There’s a man, Cameron James… He’s been obsessed with me for almost a year now. Um, we went on like one date, and I… and he…”

Your throat threatened to close and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You started shaking as you cried. Spencer gathered you into his lap and held you. You let yourself be held, let yourself cry. You were terrified. How had he found you? What would he do now that he had?

“Start from the beginning,” Spencer offered once you’d evened out your breathing a little.    
“We went on a date,” you said, your head on his shoulder, staring at the end of the couch. “And he just kept calling me and texting me. I told him I wasn’t interested, that I was sorry. But he just kept calling. And when I blocked him, he showed up at my house. I called the cops so he sent me this chocolate from this local place. I had mentioned on our date how much I loved it. And he… he sent one every week. I kept asking him to stop, and finally Morgan helped me get a restraining order so he’s not allowed to contact me, or send me anything or get within one hundred feet of me… but he didn’t stop. So Morgan suggested I move.” You rubbed your face in your hands. “God, I’m so stupid. I felt so safe here, I let my guard down. I should have seen--”

“No,” he said firmly. “This is not your fault. At all.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know… You could have been in danger,” you said. “You still could be.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said softly. “We need to get you somewhere safe. Now.”

He gently moved you off of his lap and led you to the bedroom. 

“Start packing, I’m going to call Garcia.”

“She said she would keep an eye out for him,” you mentioned. He looked hurt. 

“She knows?” he asked. 

“She… told me about her date that shot her,” you said. He nodded and it felt like he understood without further explanation. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you said again. “I just… didn’t want to add to your list of nightmares.”

He let out a breath and his shoulders fell. He looked almost exasperated. Thinking he might be mad, you prepared yourself. But instead, he embraced you, wrapping himself around you and holding you as if trying to shield you from the world. 

“Let me protect you now,” he said softly.

He pulled away to call Garcia. He put it on Speaker. 

“Pack,” he said. 

You nodded and started to do so, gathering essentials. Roxy paced back and forth along the length of the room.

“Boy wonder!” Garcia exclaimed. 

“Garcia, has there been any activity for Camera James?”

“Oh, you uh, ok,” she typed. “No, none of my alerts have gone off. Why, has something happened?”

You shared a look with Spencer. 

“We have reason to believe that he’s been sending (Y/N) chocolate, his MO from before she moved. She thought it was Luke but it wasn’t.”

“I don't see any credit card activity outside Illinois,” she said. “Looks like he’s still working and living there. Not even a vacation since she moved.”

“He knows she has friends in the FBI,” Spencer said. “He would be careful.”

“Let me call you back after I do some digging,” she said. 

She hung up and he pocketed his phone, helping you gather what clothes you would need. 

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

“I don't think he knows about me,” Spencer said. “With the… amount of time we spend together and the time of day we do, I think he would have perceived me as… a threat of some kind, so if he knew, he would have sent something to me, done something to me. He hasn’t. Which means, like Garcia said, he’s still in Illinois. We’ll be safe at my apartment for the time being.”

You felt sick thinking about it. What if Cameron had known about Spencer? 

Spencer’s phone rang a minute later. 

“Ok, so I called the chocolate shop, and they said they got a cash order a few weeks ago with instructions to send out a box to your address every week. They were closed the other week for a family emergency which is why you have only gotten two,” she said. “The lady said they were only scheduled for four weeks.”

“Meaning he has an endgame,” Spencer said, his tone deadly serious.

“It would seem that way, yeah,” Garcia admitted.

“My guess is he’s driving, buying gas with cash and making his way across the country during the last week, this coming week. He’s making sure none of those alarms of yours are going off.”

“What is he going to do when he gets there?” she asked. 

Spencer looked at you with fear on his face. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. 

“We can assume nothing good,” Garcia said. 

“Sending chocolate isn’t necessarily aggressive,” you suggested. “Right?”

“If he thinks he’s won you back, and you reject him again… Things could go south. Just from what you’ve told me he’s highly obsessive, and that never ends well.”

You swallowed and he realized what he’d said. You knew he was just stating a fact, that this was what he’d seen in the past, but it didn’t stop the hairs on your arm from standing up straight or the blood from leaching out of your face.

“I’ll send a BOLO to the local cops and alert the team. They’re heading back from a case tomorrow.”

“Great,” Spencer said. “We’re heading to my apartment. Let me know if anything changes.”   
Your mind stopped functioning in the time it took to gather the rest of your stuff and head over to Spencer’s. You couldn’t remember if the car ride had been silent or if he had said anything. You seemed to only come back to yourself when Spencer took your hand and led you inside his apartment. Roxy followed close at your heels.

You followed him as he opened the door and walked inside. He turned to you, still holding your hand in his. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” he said softly, not meeting your gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I--”   
“No, I’m sorry. I am sorry that you felt like you had to keep this from me to protect me. It must have been eating you up inside. I’m sorry I made you think I wasn’t… strong enough.”

You stepped closer to him, lifting his gaze to yours by gently touching his jaw.

“I never thought you weren’t strong enough,” you said. “I just…”

You looked at him. He was waiting for you to say something. And it hit you. You could die tomorrow. You could die today. Things could go south with Cameron if he found you, you were sure Spencer was right. So why not just tell him? You could tell him, get it off your chest and have one less thing to worry about. He would just reject you, and you could move on. But you didn’t want to die and have him not know. Of course you hoped it wouldn’t lead to that… but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Spencer I never thought you weren’t strong enough,” you repeated. “I just didn’t want you to have to worry about me because… I like you,” you said, managing to look at him despite the blush in your cheeks. 

“I like you too,” he said. 

“No, Spence, I mean… I  _ like  _ you. As in… more than friends like you.”

He blinked and it took him a second to process. You waited for the pity, for the patronizing gaze, but his face remained the same, confused.

“ _ You _ like  _ me? _ ” he asked. 

“Listen, I know you don’t feel the same, and I don’t expect you to say anything, I just… wanted to tell you that’s how I feel in case anything… happens. I just wanted you to know. But please, don’t worry about it, we can still just be friends, things can be the same, I promise. I’m sorry to make it weird I just… I didn’t tell you about him because I liked you, even when I didn’t realize that’s what it was… and I wanted to protect you and… I didn’t want _him_ to be involved in this at all because you’re _so_ _important_ to me.”

He was dumbstruck. How had you hid this so well from him? Surely he should have profiled all the signs, especially lately.    
“You,” he said carefully. “Like me,” he pointed between the two of you. 

You sighed. 

“Yeah,” you said, feeling slightly anxious. “So anyway, we can just move on now.”

You made to pull away but he held you in place. You looked at him, and saw him… smile. And then he laughed.

For a moment, you were hurt. You thought he might be laughing because the thought of you liking him and expecting anything back was ridiculous, but then you realized it was more like relief. 

“I can’t believe you feel the same way,” he said. His eyes were bright, but almost brimmed with tears. 

It was your turn to be dumbstruck. 

“What?” you asked. 

“I like you too,” he smiled. “Like more than friends like you,” he smirked, bouncing a little on the ball of his feet.

“No you don’t,” you sighed. “Spence, you don’t have to say that. Listen, I know we’re in a tight spot right now, but you don’t have to pretend just so I feel better.”

He looked confused. 

“I’m not pretending,” he said. “I haven't been pretending since the day we met. And that’s the thing. I’ve never had to pretend with you. Never had to fake anything. I’ve never had… this before. Never had anyone who would just… let me be me. I don’t have to pretend to be okay when I’m not, don’t have to pretend that I don’t have nightmares, or don’t feel ashamed of my scars. I guess now I don’t have to pretend that I don’t feel more than friendship for you,” he added, the corners of his lips twisting up.

“You’re serious,” you realized. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re a super genius who solves crime and teaches at a super fancy school, and I’m just… me,” you shrugged.  

“You’re a beautiful, creative, enigmatic woman who has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen,” he said. “And  _ I’m _ just  _ me. _ ”

You shook your head, unbelieving. 

“You really mean it?” you confirmed. You couldn’t help it, you’d trained yourself to think you weren’t deserving of this happiness. 

He didn’t say anything. He simply cupped your face with his hands and kissed you gently. Your heart soared. Your head buzzed pleasantly as his lips found yours and when he pulled away, you were beaming. 

“Wow,” he breathed, opening his eyes slowly. 

You couldn’t stop smiling, and for a moment, you forgot where you were and why you were there. But you did, in the seconds after you’d pulled away, and you started shaking a little. Your hands trembled as you ran them through your hair. 

Spencer gently grasped them in his and held them to his chest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said softly. “I will not let him anywhere near you.”

You saw how deadly serious he was about this, and your heart slowed a little, your hands became slightly steadier.

Your phone rang, making you jump before you could respond to Spencer. It was Morgan. 

“I’m fine,” you promised. 

“Garcia just called,” he said. “She brought me up to speed. I’m dropping Savannah and Hank off and then coming right over. We’ll talk about next steps. I will be damned if I let this fucker into this town let alone into a mile radius of you.”

You nodded and made a sound of acknowledgement. 

“We’ll be here,” you said. 

You said your goodbyes and looked up at Spencer. He was looking down at you, and while he wasn’t smiling he still looked happy somehow. 

“I’ll make some tea,” he offered. He kissed your forehead and walked into the kitchen to start the kettle. 

He was too far away and you needed him next to you, so you followed, hugging him from behind as he placed the kettle on the stove and turned it on. You buried your face in his back and breathed him in, comforted instantly. 

He didn’t say anything, he just turned in your arms and held you. 

Morgan arrived as you were finishing your tea, and the three of you sat down in the living room. 

“I think you’ll be safe here,” he said. “Reid was right in that respect, but I’m placing plain clothes cops outside for surveillance just in case.”

You nodded and swallowed hard, feeling your hands start to shake again. Spencer took one of yours into his, but you barely noticed. What if Cameron found out where you were? Hurt those cops outside? Somehow you’d managed to bring more chaos than anything else with you.

“Just lay low,” Morgan said. “We’re on the lookout for him. We can get him for violating the restraining order by sending those chocolates. Garcia said they saved the envelopes with the return address. No name, but he’s the only resident so it works.”

“What’s that, just a fine, though?” you asked. “He wouldn’t do jail time for that.”

Morgan sighed and rubbed his hands together. 

“You’re not wrong,” he said. “You have the support of the FBI, but unfortunately as with a lot of these cases, we can’t really do anything serious until he does. We can hope the fines deter him. It’s not like he’s a millionaire.”

You breathed out and nodded. 

“So this might be my life for a while… Until he finds me,” you said. Roxy whined and put her paw in your lap.

The men didn’t say anything, and you sat in silence for a moment.    
“We’ll make sure he doesn’t get close,” Morgan promised. “You got a good guy with you,” he said, smiling and glancing down at your hand entwined with Spencer’s knowingly. “He’ll keep you safe. And I’ll check in often.”

“Thanks,” you said. He got up and you followed him to the door, Spencer trailing behind you, having not let go of your hand. 

“Hey, kid, give us minute,” Morgan asked, putting a hand on your shoulder and leading you outside the apartment door. 

Spencer nodded, reluctantly letting go of your hand.

You stepped outside with Morgan, leaving Roxy to walk in a circle and lay down at Spencer’s feet while she waited for you to come back.

You closed the door, unsure what it was that Morgan couldn’t say in front of Spencer. 

“So,” he said, smirking. “I see I was right?”

You tilted your head to the side and stared at him. 

“What? Cameron?”

“No,” Morgan rolled his eyes. “Reid.”

You blushed and instantly tried to hide it. 

“I fucking knew it,” he laughed, clapping his hands together. “When did it happen?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, indignantly. 

He laughed and hit you lovingly in the arm.

“I knew it. I knew if I said anything you’d avoid him out of spite. But I was right.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You didn’t know,” you dismissed. 

“I knew,” he promised. “And I’m happy I did.”

You smiled and sighed. 

“Me too,” you admitted. 

“The Great Skates Dates,” Morgan said, moving his hand like he was seeing a movie poster.

You giggled and slapped him on his arm.

“Seriously, I’m glad you have someone to go through shit with when I can’t be there,” he said. 

“You’re there,” you answered. “More than I deserve.”

He shook his head and sighed, bringing you in for a hug. 

“Fuck I forgot to ask,” you said, stepping back. “How was the honeymoon?”

He bit his lower lip and raised his eyebrows suggestively. 

“I’ll take that as a good thing,” you laughed and he joined in. 

“Aright, get back in there before Pretty Boy hurts his ear listening through the door,” he winked, knocking on the door loudly. 

“Ow,” you heard muffled through the door.

Morgan laughed and kissed you on the cheek before heading down the hallway.

You walked in and closed the door behind you. Roxy came right to you and you pet her while walking towards Spencer. 

“What do you want to do?” he asked. 

You took a deep breath and looked towards his bedroom. 

“Lie down,” you said honestly.

He took your hand and led you to the bedroom. 

“Can I borrow a shirt or something?” you asked. Your clothes felt sweaty from your waves of fear and nausea. 

“‘Course,” Spencer said, rifling through his drawers. He came out with a shirt that would easily fall to your mid thigh. 

You took it from him and took off your shorts and shirt. You waited until you had the larger shirt on to take off your bra, and you crawled into his bed. Roxy jumped up and laid at your feet.

Perhaps most men might have taken advantage of the situation, or at least ogled you while you changed, but Spencer had turned, giving you privacy while he put his drawers back in order and closed them.

When you were in bed, laying on top of the covers, he joined you, slipping off his shoes and laying on his side facing you.

“How’re you doing?” he asked carefully. 

“Scared,” you answered. “I don’t know what I did to warrant this.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Spencer promised, laying his hand on yours and tracing small patterns on the back of your hand. “Men like that have something wrong with them. Something that makes them latch on to certain people, sometimes anyone who shows them any kindness. They misperceive it as love, and once they have it, they will do anything to keep it.”

You thought about that. How he was willing to do whatever it took to have you, even cross half the country and risk jail time. You wondered how far you would go for Spencer, and it scared you.

“Distract me,” you said. “Let’s talk about literally anything else.”

He nodded, thinking. 

“Tell me about when we first met,” you said. “What were you thinking? I thought you hated me.”

He laughed. 

“I never hated you,” he said. He looked at your hand while he spoke. “You have a very… commanding presence and I’m not, um, very present at all,” he laughed. “You were so confident and so sure, all the things I never am. It was intimidating. Also the fact that you’re Morgan’s best friend from his hometown, and I get jealous pretty easily,” he added. 

Something clicked in your head, his words merging with a memory.

“Is that why it seemed like you hated Luke?” you asked. “Did you think I was into him?”

“Were you?” he asked shyly. 

“No,” you laughed. 

“It’s not an absurd assumption,” Spencer defended himself. You shrugged. 

“I suppose,” you granted. 

“He’s handsome, an army man, and he has a dog,” Spencer listed. “Most women would consider that a dream guy.”

“He’s nice,” you admitted. “But I don’t really care about the other stuff. I guess he’s handsome, objectively, but doesn’t do anything for me. Not like you.”

His eyes perked up at this and he looked at you, smiling. 

“I thought I smelled weird or you thought I was an idiot or something when we first met,” you chuckled. “You acted like touching me was revolting.”

He smirked and looked at you.    
“The opposite,” he said shyly. “I felt… I never feel things when I touch other people, but even just your hand, your waist… I felt something. It scared me. It scares me.”

You nodded, completely understanding. 

“I almost kissed you at the wedding,” you blushed. “In the pool.”

“Me too,” he laughed. You felt tingly. 

“I’m so glad you didn’t like Sasha,” you smirked. “It killed me to send you on that date.”

“Killed me to go,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips. 

“Why did you?”

“Because you asked,” he said plainly. 

You blinked.

Then you leaned in and kissed him gently. 

“Never do that for me,” you said. 

“What?”

“Don’t do something that you hate for me ever again, please.”

“I thought it would make you happy.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” you shook your head, smiling. 

Spencer looked at you and sighed. 

“I wish I could take you out on an actual date,” he said softly. “But it looks like we might need to lay low for a while.”

You resisted the urge to apologize, knowing what he would say. 

He seemed to brighten for a moment and took out his phone. He texted something and then looked back at you. 

“How would you feel about hanging out with one of the team while I go get us some stuff for a date night here?” he asked. “I don't want to leave you home alone, and I don't think it’s wise to go galavanting around town.”

“Okay,” you grinned. His phone buzzed. 

“Tomorrow night works for Luke,” he said. “He can pick up Roxy then. And Tara wants to tag along.”

“Awesome,” you smiled, looking forward to seeing them and your first official date. Then another thought occurred. “So, do we like, tell them?” you asked, blushing. 

His blush mirrored your own. It was so new to both of you, you almost didn't want to share it with anyone else.

“I’m sure Morgan has sent out a group text by now,” he laughed. 

“True,” you smiled. “I wish we could tell them all together but that seems unlikely in the foreseeable future.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind hearing it individually. Then we can judge them on their fake surprise,” he smirked. 

“I bet Garcia’s the worst actor,” you wagered. “My money’s on Matt,” he replied. 

You giggled and snuggled closer to him. 

“Despite being kind of terrified… I’m really happy,” you said. “I never thought I’d have this.”   
“Me either,” he said. 

And while it was new, the knowledge that his feelings mirrored yours, it still felt like you’d always been like this. And in a way, you had. Since you’d gotten to know him, you’d felt safe with him, trusted him. All that had changed now was the potential for even deeper understanding of each other.

You only hoped that nothing and no one would get in the way of that.   
  



	13. Chapter 13

Luke and Tara came over in the late afternoon, after you and Spencer had spent the day reading in bed. The first night after your confession had not gone the way it had in your fantasies. It was better. While part of you longed for a long, passionate, night, you were happier to find that not much had changed. The one thing that did, was while you were in his arms, you didn't have to imagine or pretend that he felt the same way you did. In some miracle of circumstance, he did, and you embraced the feeling. 

The morning had changed only slightly in that he kissed you when you first woke up, and several times during the morning and afternoon. It seemed like he allowed himself to touch you more, in little ways. While he had laid his hand on your hip while reaching for things in the kitchen, or laid his hand on the small of your back while walking around you, he now let himself slip his hand into yours just to hold it, or kiss your cheek or forehead before he left the room.

Spencer had promised to be back in a little more than an hour, and he gave you a quick kiss in front of Luke and Tara. You knew they were watching with huge grins, but you and Spencer had decided to just not make a big deal out of it. 

This, however, left you to deal with their reactions after he’d left. 

“Yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes at their fake-shocked faces. “I know you know.”

“Morgan did mention something,” Luke laughed. 

“Congratulations,” Tara smiled. “I think you make a lovely couple.”   
“Thanks,” you blushed. 

“Hey, I wanted to say sorry about blowing you off those times after we hiked,” Luke mentioned. “And now that it’s finally happened, I just wanted to say that I felt so bad, but I knew if we hung out, Reid would… I don’t know, I didn’t want to get in the way of anything. After I saw you guys together at that first party, I knew what was going on. Actually lost twenty bucks to Morgan. If you just held out another week, I could have brought over a very inexpensive bottle of wine,” he winked.

You laughed. 

“Really? I don't remember what we did at that party,” you said. “I remember Spence not wanting to go alone, but we just played a mediocre game of pictionary.”

“You didn’t see him when you left the room,” Tara said, glancing at Luke, who nodded. 

“Boy was a mess.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you dismissed. “I’m sure he was fine. He seemed fine.”

“He probably did,” Luke admitted. “But we’re sort of trained in these things and it’s not really something you turn off. Whenever you left he got super anxious, but as soon as you came back he was fine,” Luke explained. 

“And your body language gave you away,” Tara smiled. “You hardly entered anyone else’s personal space, even Morgan, but you were comfortable with Reid, always touching even if you didn’t notice it.”

You thought about it and realized she was right. 

“I didn’t even know back then,” you laughed. 

“Well I’m glad you figured it out,” Tara smiled.

“Hey, I’m sorry you guys had to come over like some kind of babysitting. You probably just wanted to take your dog and sleep, huh?”

“It’s not babysitting,” Tara assured you. “It’s helping, protecting a friend.”

“And Roxy hardly seems like she’s itching to leave,” he noticed as she was curled up at your feet fast asleep.

“Well, I appreciate it. Since we can’t really go out for a first real date, we’re so of improvising.”

“What’s he getting?” Luke asked. 

“No idea,” you laughed.

“I’m sure he’ll go all out,” Luke smiled. “He really likes you.”

“Apparently,” you said, hearing your own surprise.

“You… didn’t know?” Tara asked. 

“No,” you laughed. “How could I have?”

They shared a look and then turned to you as if you were crazy. 

“Um, it was obvious?” Luke said. 

“So obvious,” Tara confirmed. Even Roxy woke up to look at you as if she agreed. 

“Not to me,” you shrugged. “I’m no profiler.”

“You definitely didn’t need to be a profiler to see it,” Luke smirked. “But I’m guessing he didn’t see it either. Hence the taking forever.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. 

“We didn’t take  _ forever,” _ you said. 

They shared another look and you huffed. 

“Whatever,” you laughed. 

The three of you hung out with Roxy until Spencer returned a little over an hour later. 

Luke and Tara made their exit with little to no teasing and you were left alone with Spencer again. 

“So, what’d you get for our date?” you asked, looking at all the bags he’d brought in. 

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and smiled. 

“Actually, would you mind… hanging out in the bedroom for a while? I’d like to surprise you.”

Your cheeks flushed and you kissed him, leaving him breathless before grabbing a book and heading to the bedroom. You shut the door and tried to focus on your book. Spencer was relatively quiet in the kitchen, but you heard a few noises here and there including a little humming of a tune you didn’t know.

Finally, you got sucked into the book and didn’t notice the hour that went by. You heard a knock on the door and saw Spencer peak his head in. 

“Ready,” he announced shyly.

You slipped off the bed and followed him out into the living room. From the doorway you could see what he’d done. The lights were dimmed, and and there were candles everywhere. Two tall candles stood on the coffee table. Two new pillows, wide and cushy, were placed on their side, making up for his lack of a dinner table. A large roast chicken lay in the center, and the plates were garnished with vegetables and rice quite artistically. A small bottle of wine sat beside the chicken closer to one side of the table, with one glass empty and another filled with water.

You walked with Spencer over to the table and sat down on the cushion nearest to the wine. You noticed a small wrapped box next to your improvised seat.

“What’s this?” you asked, picking up the lightweight box.

“A small surprise,” Spencer said, sitting opposite you. “Go ahead.”

“Spence, you didn’t have to get me anything,” you blushed.

“Open it,” he smiled. 

Feeling excited and spoiled, you unwrapped the ribbon on the box and lifted the lid. Inside you found a small golden pendant. The pendant was shaped in the form of a man and woman dancing. Her golden hand was in his, while his arm wrapped around her waist, her golden dress flowing out. You stared at it and smiled. 

“It’s beautiful,” you marveled. 

“I thought it… Well it reminded me of us.”

“Dancing lessons,” you smirked and shook your head. “Morgan really did know.”

Spencer smiled and got up to walk around you. He knelt down and you gave him each side of the necklace. He easily clasped it together and you felt the weight of it dangling just above your heart. He leaned in and kissed your neck gently before returning to the other side of the coffee table.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I wish I had known, I would have gotten you something… somehow,” you frowned. 

Spencer shook his head. 

“It’s for both of us really,” he said. “For you to wear and for me to know… That you’re mine.”

You blushed and looked at the pendant. 

“Would you like some chicken?” he asked. He had precut a few slices. 

“Sure,” you smiled. You filled your plate out and both of you began eating. 

A silence filled the space between you, and suddenly you couldn’t think of anything to say. He avoided your gaze as he ate, possibly feeling the same thing. Why was there suddenly pressure?

“Hey,” you said, somewhat nervously. He looked up from his plate. “Why do I feel like… weird?” you laughed. “Like I’m nervous all of the sudden?”

His shoulders relaxed a little and he let out a breath. 

“I thought it was just me,” he smiled coyly. “I think I’m just nervous because… this is our first date, technically.”

“Right,” you nodded. “That might be it. But still, we’ve eaten together before.”

“Not on a date,” Spencer pointed out.

You paused, reflecting on why this felt different. 

Because it  _ mattered _ , you realized. Finally you were in a setting with him that was important, something that you could fuck up if you weren’t careful. 

“I think we’re nervous because… we realize how big this is. How important,” you posited, looking at him over the candles. 

“I am so afraid… I’m going to mess this up,” he said carefully. 

“Why?” you asked, reaching your hand over the coffee table and holding his.    
“What you know about me, is it good?” he laughed “Nothing ever goes right for me.”

You pursed your lips together. You couldn’t necessarily argue with that. He had had a lot of hardships in his life. 

“It won’t be like that with me,” you promised. “It’ll be easy.”

You looked around the room and realized why you were there. 

“Well… relatively easy,” you modified.

“Being with you is easy,” he said, as if accepting something. “But--”

“No buts,” you interrupted him. “Let it be like that. Let it be easy.”

He swallowed hard and you could tell he was about to tell you something.

“I’ve only felt this way once before, and she… was killed,” he said softly. “We didn’t even get to meet really, besides when she died. We just… called and wrote each other… but it still...”

He couldn't finish his sentence. You felt your heart sink into sadness for him. 

“What was her name?” you asked. 

“ Maeve,” he nearly whispered. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, coming around the table to sit next to him.

“She was… killed by her… stalker,” he said, as if each word was a piece of glass in his mouth. 

You stiffened and felt a small wave of fear wash over you. 

“I don’t tell you this to scare you,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m telling you this so you know how serious I am. I  _ will not _ let that happen again. Never. You are safe. I will keep you safe no matter what.”

You nestled closer to him and nodded, feeling your eyes brimming with tears. 

“I will always be here,” you promised, almost to yourself.

You stayed like that, on the floor, for some time, just holding each other. 

 

***

 

The nights that followed were largely the same as they had always been with Spencer. With the exception of a few more kisses, you just held each other at night. It was definitely harder to fall asleep given the stressful circumstances, and the two of you both knew without saying anything that you didn’t want your first time being intimate together to be in a time like this. 

You were getting restless. Spencer went out to get you whatever you needed, but you were cooped up. You weren’t sleeping well, and somehow his loving arms around you didn't comfort you as much as remind you how much you had to lose now. 

It also sucked that you had to delay your plans to start up your and Morgan’s business. You had told the guys what was going on, and that you couldn’t risk them coming over either. They were understanding but you wondered how long they could wait around without the next job. You almost suggested Morgan go ahead without you, but you weren’t that desperate yet. Still, the days with nothing to do and everything to fear were wearing on you. Even with the team checking in, trying to distract you, it wasn’t enough.

Spencer could tell you were on edge, especially the time you screamed when you were reading and he touched your shoulder. You hadn’t heard him approach, and had automatically assumed it was Cameron finally coming for you.

The time had come and gone for when the chocolate shop had said was the final delivery date. You weren’t surprised. He didn't know where you were. How long would it take him to figure it out? Surely he had used a PI last time. But would that be enough this time? Or would he find another way? You doubted he would give up any time soon. It didn't feel fair that you had to put your life on hold while you waited for him. It wasn’t fair.

You were seething and trembling at the same time. Sitting on Spencer’s couch, your knees pulled to your chest and head buried, you felt a hand on your arm. Looking up slowly, you saw Spencer waiting, his hand extended to you. 

“Can I have this dance?” he asked, pressing something on his phone with his other hand. Music began to play.

He had dressed up. When had he dressed up? How long had you been on the couch alone? He was wearing a dress shirt, pants, and even dress shoes. His hair was combed, he had shaved. You blinked, unsure if you had fallen asleep.

Your body just guided itself to him without your permission. You took his hand and he helped you off the couch. He pulled you close to him as the music played. It wasn’t fast like a waltz, it was just slow, almost jazzy music. He wrapped himself around you and you breathed him in slowly. 

You felt your shoulders drop and your body lean into him. Your chest touched his and his hand dipped low on your back. You nestled you head against his chest and swayed with him. You felt your breathing slow and steady itself while you swayed with him, felt your heart rate drop to a normal level. His smell, his touch, calmed you.

You let out an enormous breath.    
“There it is,” he whispered. “Breathe.”

You did as he asked and took another breath, slowly exhaling after you’d counted to five. 

When you’d calmed down, you looked up at him. He had a small smile on his lips, but his eyes held concern. You had worried him, the one thing you hadn’t wanted to do. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, smoothing your thumb over his cheek where his worried eyes had made creases.

His brows pulled together and looked at you, head tilted slightly. 

“What for?”

“Making you worry,” you said, as if it were obvious. 

“Who says I’m worried,” he answered, trying to sound nonchalant. You gave him a look. “I’m only worried that you’re getting a bit of cabin fever,” he shrugged. 

“That’s one name for it,” you muttered. 

“Are you sick of me yet?” he asked. It sounded as if he were teasing, but you detected a note a real concern in there. 

“Of course not,” you assured him. “I just… I almost wish he would just come and try to get me already. The anticipation is killing me.”

He flinched slightly. 

“He’s not going to get you,” Spencer said seriously. 

“It feels like he is,” you said. “Not because of you, just because… I don’t know, it feels inevitable.”

“You will be fine,” Spencer said. “All the cops are on the lookout. When they find him, he’ll go to jail for contacting you.”

You frowned, unsure he would be met with such punishment. 

“Hey,” he said, drawing your attention back up to him. “Tell me something.”   
“What?” you asked. 

“Anything,” he said. “Anything about you I don’t know.”

You blinked, surprised by the change of conversation.

“Um,” you muttered, forgetting everything about yourself. “I don’t know… I guess… When I was little, I used to think that if I couldn’t see someone, they couldn’t see me. So I’d just close my eyes and believe I’d become invisible.”

He chuckled, and it made you smile. You thought about that childish belief, and how you wished it were true. Maybe you could just shut your eyes and Cameron wouldn’t see you. If only.

“I can only imagine you as a child,” he mused, a small smile still playing on his lips.

“Yes, only imagine. You will see no baby pictures,” you warned playfully. 

“I’m sure Morgan has a few he would be more than willing to share,” he said. 

You gasped and shook your head. 

“You’re treacherous,” you teased.

He smiled at you, and for those few moments, you had successfully forgotten about Cameron. In another breath, however, your circumstances came back to you all too clearly and you felt your body tense a little.

“Did it work?” he asked shyly. “At least for a moment?”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. You knew he intended a distraction. 

“Yeah,” you smiled softly. “Thanks.”

He breathed in deeply and you nestled against his chest. The music had ended by now, and the two of you stopped swaying, but did not come apart.

“I would do anything to make you smile,” he whispered.

You sighed and tried to stifle the emotions running through you. How had you come to deserve this man?

There was a knock at the door, then, that made your heart feel as though it had shattered. You jumped, but Spencer’s hold on you didn’t loosen. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” you asked him. 

He pressed his lips together in a fine line and shook his head.    
“Officer Coulson,” the voice from outside the door said. “Can I have a word?”

“One of the cops stationed outside?” you guessed. 

Spencer didn’t respond and motioned for you to stay where you were. He grabbed his gun from the bedroom table as the knocking increased. He walked slowly over to the door. You felt your stomach twist violently. Why did you have such a bad feeling about this? Surely it was just the officer coming to tell you something. Still, this hadn’t happened in the week you’d been here. 

Spencer looked through the peephole.

“Can you lower your badge?” Spencer asked. 

You screamed as Spencer flew back, the force of the door being kicked in knocking him off his feet. His gun fell from his hand as he landed, unconscious, on the floor. 

Your heart started beating faster in your chest, your body felt cold. You looked for any escape, but found none. 

He stood there with a gun pointed at you and smiled.

“My love,” he said. “I’ve found you.”

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

“C-Cameron,” you stuttered.  You closed your eyes and begged your body to teleport somewhere else. 

“I won your little game,” he said, taking a step towards you. 

What was your play here? Go along with it? Try to reason with him? Your mind felt like the way you can never run fast enough in a dream.

“I can’t believe the lengths you went to with this game,” he smiled maniacally. “But I won! I found you!”

“You won?” you asked. Your stomach was threatening to reveal its contents very soon.

“Obviously,” Cameron said. “You wanted me to prove my love for you by finding you, and I have. I found where you moved, but you were gone. Very tricky,” he smiled, waving the gun around. “But all I had to do was wait around, and follow a few different cops. Eventually one came here. And it was like a movie,” he sighed. “I saw you through a window, just for a second. But I’d know that silhouette anywhere.”

You swallowed hard. The badge. Looking closer you could see a bit of blood on it. Had he killed the man? Had you caused someone’s death?

“Oh,” was all you could muster.

“And now we can be together forever.”

The way he spoke, you were surprised he didn’t hear how delusional he sounded.

He stepped closer to you, and you fought the urge to run. He would definitely shoot you. If the bloody badge told you anything, it was that he was not afraid to use force. The thought of him touching you made you cringe, his very presence made your blood cold.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said softly. Maybe you could just convince him you weren’t worth it. He tapped the gun against his leg, frustrated. You pressed your lips together, and chanced a glance at Spencer. He was still out. It was hard to tell if there were any serious injuries.

“I’m not worth your time,” you said. “You should be with someone better.”

“But I want you,” he said, smiling. “I  _ love _ you.” 

“No you don’t,” you responded. “And I don’t love you.”

“How would you know?” he laughed. “When we met, you said you’d never been in love. So how would you even know? Maybe you do love me, and you just don’t know it.”

You heard Spencer make a sound, but it felt too dangerous to look at him. Was he okay? Was he trying to get your attention? Did he need help? The worry must have appeared as guilt on your face. Or Cameron read the concern lacing your features accurately.

“You… have been in love?” he asked. “You  _ lied?” _ he said, getting angry. 

“No, I didn’t lie. I hadn’t been in love… then,” you said, holding your hands up. “Please, just put the gun down.”

“But you’ve been in love since,” he said, not listening to you. “And… not with me.”

Maybe this was your out, maybe if he thought you were with someone else, he would leave you alone.

“Yes,” you admitted. 

It felt… good to admit it, even if it were to your psycho stalker.

“No, no no… How would you even know?” he asked again. 

You took a breath and tried to force your brain to think straight.

“I know,” you started, “Because… I feel safe with him. I trust him. I want to be around him all the time. His scent is like the way coming home feels… His arms around me feel  _ right _ . I like the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs, and how many books he can read in a day. I love that he’s so, so kind, and that he believes in the good in people even though he’s seen so much bad. I love that he makes me feel heard and respected, that he honors me. I love that he makes me want to be a better person.”

You had said all of this to no one in particular, and when you were done, you looked back at Cameron. He looked a bit in awe. His gun had lowered during your speech. That’s when your attention shifted to behind him. Spencer had risen, and on shaky legs, was holding a gun to the back of Cameron’s head. 

“Drop the weapon,” he said, his voice clear and strong. 

You could see blood coming down his forehead from where he’d been hit. 

Cops swarmed from behind him, then. You guessed that someone had called the cops when they heard you scream followed by a loud thud. At least five police officers came in with guns held up. Cameron closed his eyes and dropped the gun. 

He followed Spencer’s instructions as he was arrested. Spencer borrowed one of the cop’s handcuffs and once everything was done, handed him off to the cop. 

“Please, (Y/N), I love you,” Cameron exclaimed, fighting the officers to get another glance at you. 

You had turned away, wrapped your arms around yourself, and started to shake. Spencer’s arms found their way around you, turning you into him and holding you while you broke down. Everything from the past few months, everything that had accumulated to this moment, was spilling out of you. It was over.

You stopped crying when you remembered what had happened to Spencer. 

“Your head,” you said suddenly, pulling away. You looked at him closely. 

“I’m sure I have a concussion,” Spencer winced. “But other than that, I’m okay.”

You hid your head in your hands and sighed. 

“I didn’t want this,” you said. “This is exactly what I didn’t want.”

“I would get hit with a dozen doors for you,” he said, carefully pulling your hands away from your face. “Because I love you too.”

You froze. You hadn’t realized he had heard you say those things. You blushed. The only reason you hadn’t said it by now was just… fear. Saying it would make it real, make it something you could lose. After what just happened, it didn’t seem so scary anymore.

“You do?” you confirmed.

He laughed, as if any other outcome would have been ridiculous. 

“Of course I do,” he said. “And I would have said it sooner, but…”

“Yeah we both need to work on that whole confidence thing,” you smirked. 

He smiled and kissed you gently. 

“Got here as fast as I could,” Morgan panted, hanging onto the doorway. 

You broke the kiss and turned to him. Morgan rushed to you and pulled you into a hug.    
“I’m so fucking mad,” he said into your hair. “I should never have let him get that close.”

“What happened out there?” you asked, remembering the bloody badge. “Did he… kill that officer?”

“No, he’ll live,” Morgan assured you, pulling out of the hug. “Shot in the abdomen but didn’t hit anything serious.”

You sighed and felt a small weight lift.

“Good,” you said. “Well, not great, but definitely better than I thought.”

Morgan nodded and sighed. 

“You’re okay?” he asked, hands on your arms. 

“I’m okay,” you smiled. 

“I’m fine too,” Spencer waved, pointing at his slightly bloody head.

“I knew nothing could break that thick skull,” Morgan smirked. 

Spencer made a face. 

“So… attempted murder on a cop… assault and threatening an FBI agent and a woman who had a restraining order against him?” you said slowly. “More than just a fine, huh?”

Morgan nodded. 

“Definitely jail time, long ass probation with strict supervision if he ever gets out.”

“Which he won’t,” Spencer said from the kitchen. He was pouring two glasses of water. “I’ll be at every parole hearing.”

“So will I,” Morgan said. 

You took a shaky breath in and let it out in a steady stream. You felt truly safe for the first time in a long time. You glanced at the broken door. 

“We can go back to my place now, right?” you asked. “Everything’s good?”

Morgan followed your gaze and nodded. 

“Yeah, Skates, everything’s good.” You smiled. “I can get a cheap door to put on just to have something to lock temporarily until we get an actual replacement,” he said, more to Spencer than you. Spencer nodded his thanks, bringing you a glass of water.

“I’ll grab my stuff,” you said. “I just want to go home and lay down for a while.”

Morgan nodded and watched as you went to Spencer’s room for your things. He thought you couldn’t hear when you left the room, but he forgot how good your hearing was. You kept moving, slowly packing your things, as you listened to the boys’ conversation. 

“You did good, kid,” Morgan said softly. 

“Not good enough.”

Spencer’s voice was strained. 

“She’s fine,” he said. “You’re the one who got the worse end of it.”

Spencer breathed out. 

“I should have done more. I should have seen the hole in the security plans. I should have--”

“Kid, it’s over. She’s fine. Try and see it this time.”   
“See what?”

“You get the happy ending.”

You couldn’t delay your movements anymore and brought your things back over to them.

“You want to pack anything?” you asked. 

“I still have a bag at your place,” he said softly. The look in his eyes was different now. He seemed content, where before he had seemed troubled. Perhaps he finally believed what Morgan had said.

“There’s an EMT outside that can check you out before you go,” Morgan said.

“Thanks,” Spencer nodded.

“Then we’re ready to go.”

“I’ll put an officer in here till I get back with the door,” Morgan assured you. “Go rest up.”

You nodded as Spencer put an arm around you. With one last glance at Morgan, you walked with Spencer. The EMT told him that he did indeed have a mild concussion, but as long as his symptoms didn’t worsen in the next few hours, he should be fine.

Spencer drove you to your apartment and you breathed a sigh of relief when you entered. It felt like you’d been abroad for months, that you were coming back from some kind of war zone. You ran your hand over your kitchen counter, your couch. You breathed deeply and smelled the familiar scents of your home. 

Spencer let you have your space as you reconnected with yourself. 

You opened your eyes after your deep breath and looked at him. He was standing near the door, wringing his hands and looking a little nervous.    
“What's wrong?” you asked, walking towards him. 

“Nothing,” he said, hiding his hands behind his back.

“Please don’t lie to me,” you whispered. 

“I’m not,” he smiled. “Nothing’s wrong… and that’s sort of what’s throwing me off.”

You tilted your head to the side and waited for a further explanation. His hands migrated from behind him to your hips and smoothed over to your lower back. 

“There’s no way this is real. That I get to keep this,” he said, looking around the room, his eyes then coming to rest on you. “I don’t get to retire to a calmer job, save the day and get the girl.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Because that’s just not what happens to me.”

You thought about what Morgan had said to him, and realized it still hadn’t sunk in for him. 

“Maybe this time you do,” you said. “Sometimes when you give and give, the universe takes notices. And sometimes it gives a little back.”

His eyes softened a little, but he looked unconvinced. You changed tactics. 

“Besides,” you said, slipping out of his grasp. “Who says  you get the girl?”

You gave a teasing smile and winked at him, running into your room. He was stunned for a moment, but chased you, grabbing you from behind before you could make it to the bed. His arms wrapped around your stomach and he pulled you off the ground, spinning, and then falling back on the bed. 

The room filled with laughter as the two of you giggled, half because of your small game, and half with relief that everything was truly over. When you’d caught your breath, you rolled your head to the side to look at him. His hair was messy, half covering his face. His chest was rising and falling quickly with his breath. 

You pushed some wayward hair out of his eyes and smiled at him. 

“Okay,” you decided. “You get the girl.”

He smiled softly and sighed. 

“What are you thinking about now?” you asked. 

“Oh just everyone in my entire high school who claimed the opposite,” Spencer smirked. “Oddly satisfying.”

You chuckled and kissed him, feeling your body relax. You looked at him sleepily. 

“I think I’m going to take a shower and then sleep for five days,” you decided. 

He laughed softly. 

“That sounds like a great plan.”

You nodded and forced yourself to get off the bed. You considered asking him to join you, but you just weren’t in the mood. What you needed was a moment alone in some hot water to really collect yourself for a moment. 

You took your shower, hearing him puttering around in the kitchen, probably making a snack while you did so. When you emerged, you realized you’d brought no clothes in the bathroom with you. You wrapped yourself in your towel, and reminded yourself not to bend over lest you reveal anything unceremoniously to your new boyfriend. 

Towel in place, you stepped out of the steaming bathroom and looked into the kitchen through the open bedroom door. Spencer had indeed been making food out of the only non perishable things in your kitchen. He’d defrosted some bread and found some peanut butter to make some sandwiches. Your stomach rumbled and you sped immediately to the plate of food.    
You didn’t notice until halfway through the sandwich that Spencer’s cheeks had reddened significantly, and you wondered what had caused it.

“Thanks for the sandwich,” you mumbled between bites. “Didn’t realize how starving I was.”

“No problem,” he smiled, his eyes drifting over the top of your towel before resting on your face. 

“You want a shower?” you asked. “I’ll attempt to stay awake while waiting for you.”

“Sure,” he laughed. He finished his sandwich and made his way to the bathroom, grabbing his sleeping clothes to change into before he closed the door. 

You reflected on this while you got changed. Sure, you had admitted your feelings to each other, but you liked that his first instinct wasn't to use that to get in your pants. Of course it wouldn’t be. This was Spencer. He would probably wait forever if you asked him to. And not that you would, but neither were you racing into this. You could take your time in this, and other areas. You had the whole rest of your lives, if you wanted it.

You had snuggled into bed, but found it impossible to sleep without him. He didn’t take long in the shower, however, and you watched the door with sleepy eyes.

He came out with a towel against his hair, rubbing it gently. Something about the movement was so beautiful. Perhaps because of his semi-wet hair clinging to his face, perhaps his rosy cheeks and the sleepy look in his eyes. Or maybe it was just the domesticity of it all, the feeling that this was finally real, that you didn’t have to pretend it was. 

You rolled onto your back as you watched him walk around the bed and slide in next to you.    
“Hey,” you said. 

“Hey,” he smirked. 

You inched closer to him and he to you. 

“I’m happy,” you said. 

He grinned. 

“Me too.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for the lovely comments. I'm still writing and have a whole plan! sorry the chapters are so inconsistently posted, I just wanna make sure I have my plot all straight before I post too much!


	15. Chapter 15

The first thing Spencer did when you woke up was to ask you on another date. 

“I know we sort of had our first one at my place,” he said. “But I wanted to take you out, like on a real date, now that we can.”

You smiled at him. 

“What should we do?” you asked. 

“I was thinking dinner and a stroll in the park?” he asked. “They’re doing some kind of summer festival thing. There’s going to be music.”

“And dessert?” you asked. 

“I think I saw a few cannoli trucks listed,” he smirked. 

“Deal,” you grinned. 

Your second date was easier than the first. There was no awkwardness this time. You were both comfortable, happy together. It felt nice to be on his arm as he walked you into the nice restaurant. It felt nice to be treated to something, to feel wanted and heard. Dinner flew by and soon you were walking around the park. The organizers had strung up lights around every other tree lining a path that wound through it. 

You held hands as you walked. The light summer breeze made your dress skirt blow against your legs. You were full, cannolis having been found, and happy. You were thinking of your life and how everything had changed so quickly. You had moved states, dealt with a stalker, and fell in love. You thought about Spencer and his job. How different his life must be now from the way it was a year or two ago.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked. “Your old job?”

Spencer thought for a moment, weighing his response.

“Yes,” he answered. “I miss helping people.”   
“You still do that,” you pointed out. “Sort of ripple effect now.”

He nodded, considering this. 

“True,” he said. “I guess I just miss the puzzles too. Figuring out how the minds of those people work.”

“Better you than me,” you half joked. “My secret fear was that I’d turn into one of those women who were married to the guy for years and had no idea there were girl’s body parts in their gardens.”

You shivered, half because it was true, and half because you knew he’d probably met some of those people.

“It’s hard to trust anyone,” Spencer conceded. “I would imagine nearly impossible after something like that.”

“I wouldn’t know what to think about myself,” you said. 

“Well, these women don’t fall for the killer, they fall for the persona.”

“All people fall for a persona, killer or not,” you countered.

“You don’t think someone can truly know another person?” Spencer asked.

He had stopped walking and you stopped with him. He had that look in his eye, that engaged, fascinated look. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess not really. Not unless you’re telepathic.”

“You don’t think I can guess what you’re thinking?” he half teased, taking a step closer. 

“I think you could  _ guess _ ,” you bit your lip. “But you could be wrong.”

Spencer wet his lower lip with his tongue before smiling.    
“I think you want me to kiss you,” Spencer whispered, leaning in. 

You held a finger up to his lips.    
“Wrong,” you whispered. “I was thinking about potatoes.”

He laughed and looked at you. 

“Just testing to see if you were telepathic,” you smirked, and kissed him.

You started walking again, and he slipped his hand around your waist. 

“You don’t have to be telepathic to know someone,” he said. “Or at least, not me.”

“You’d share your every thought?” you asked, unconvinced. 

“Sure,” he offered. “Ask me anything.”

“Okay,” you ruminated. “I told you my biggest fear. Tell me yours.”

Your teasing conversation had taken a more serious turn than you’d anticipated, but you were still curious. It felt like a pivotal moment for the two of you. A chance for him to come through on his promise of honesty and openness. He swallowed and nodded, seemingly looking for the words. 

“My biggest fear is that… I’ll become like my mother,” he said carefully. 

You pulled him to the side of the trail and wrapped your arms around him, tucking your head beneath his chin and just holding him for a beat.    
“It’s inherited,” you said, remembering him telling you about her schizophrenia.

“Sometimes,” he nodded. You looked up at him.    
“That is fucking scary,” you said. 

He seemed to almost be crying. When he spoke, it sounded like he might start. 

“It is… fucking scary,” he half-laughed. 

“But don’t the signs usually show up by now?” you asked. “Like mid-twenties, right?” you asked, vaguely remembering any psychology classes you’d taken.

“Usually,” Spencer nodded. “Not always.”

You took a breath. 

“How bad is it, your mom?” you asked. 

“Bad,” he said. He was very close to crying, and you wondered if you should drop it, save this conversation for somewhere more private. “There’s not much they can do at this point other than manage the symptoms.”

You nodded.    
“My grandma had Alzheimer's,” you said. “I was just a kid when she was getting bad, but I remember what it was like to see her… not be her anymore. She just was lost all the time and there was nothing anyone could do for her. We were helpless.”

He nodded, taking a few deep breaths. 

“Helpless,” he repeated. “Exactly it.”

You nodded, laying your hands on his chest. 

“But not alone,” you said. “I’m here, Spencer. No matter what. With your mom, with you. Whatever happens. I am here.”

He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. It was gentle, but intimate. You blushed a little as he pulled away. 

“We should get another cannoli,” he said, with a soft smile. His eyes still looked a little pained, but you took his hand and led him to the cannoli truck.

You walked around after eating your second cannoli, holding hands and talking about lighter things. While the conversation had changed, the intimacy you felt growing between you did not. Things were lighter now, but you still felt connected him. You hadn’t meant to make him almost cry, but you were almost glad you had. You got to see him, to know him in that moment a little more. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you could truly know another person. 

It was getting late, and the two of you headed back to your apartment. Morgan had ordered a nice door for Spencer’s place, the type that the apartment building had on all the doors so the landlord wouldn't make a fuss about it, but it wouldn't be there for another week. While this didn't affect whether or not you could live there, Spencer seemed more than inclined to stay wherever you wanted. And while you loved his place, you weren’t eager to go back to where Cameron had attacked you. You knew you didn't have to explain that to him either, which was a relief.

You got back to your apartment, turned on some lights and grabbed a glass of water. 

“Thanks for tonight,” you smiled. “It was fun… and nice.”

He walked into the kitchen and stood behind you, lips hovering over your neck as he stood with his chest to your back. 

“Thank  _ you _ ,” he said. 

He laid his hands gently on your hips. You put your glass down and turned your head towards him, brushing your lips along his chin. You felt his hands tighten slightly on your hips.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”

You closed your eyes and nuzzled against him. 

“I love you too,” you said. 

You turned around. He loosened his grip on you as you did, but held you lightly against the counter when you were facing him. 

“Sometimes it scares me,” he admitted. 

Your lips were almost touching, you could feel his breath as he spoke. 

“Why?”

“Because sometimes I think you  _ are _ telepathic,” he whispered. “And I’m afraid you might not like what you hear.”

You brushed your hands along his chest, bringing them up to cup his face. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” you said, and felt him shiver slightly. “There is nothing you could think or say to me that would make me love you less.”

“You can’t know that.”

“But I can know you,” you said. “If you let me.”

“And what about me?” he asked. “Can I know you?”

You bit your lip. This was it for you. You’d never let anyone in like this before. You were really committing now, but somehow you didn't feel any hesitation. 

You didn’t respond with words, you just kissed him. Your lips against his said  _ yes _ in a way your words could never convince him. He responded, pushing you slightly against the kitchen counter, rubbing against you. You pressed closer to each other, kissing fervently. When you led him to the bedroom, you knew exactly what you wanted. You reveled in the way you made his eyes widen as you took of your clothes one item at a time. You smiled as he followed suit and the two of you reunited picking up exactly where you had left off. 

He was gentle and sensitive. He asked you whenever he did something different, if you were okay, if you wanted it. You told him yes every time. Everywhere he kissed, everywhere he sucked and licked, you said yes. Your hands tangled in his hair, and his in yours. You were wrapped around each other so tight you could barely breathe. You moaned his name and came to him nearly screaming yours. 

You were sweaty and tired messes when you were done, laying on top of the sheet together, panting. He held you from behind, gently kissing your neck. 

It was the first time that you’d felt this way for someone. The first time you wanted to know someone completely, to know what atoms they were made of and why they tangled so well with yours. You wanted to crawl inside his heart and mind and make a place there filled with light and love. You wanted to protect him from everything. And you promised yourself silently that you would.


	16. Chapter 16

The following morning, you felt extremely rested. It was only when you looked at the clock when you realized it wasn’t the morning, it was just into the afternoon. Somehow you’d slept almost eleven hours. You felt extremely happy when you thought about the previous evening. Being with Spencer, finally, with nothing ominous looming over you, had been bliss. 

He was still sleeping when you woke, and you turned easily in his arms, kissing him on the forehead to wake him. He grumbled before opening his eyes.

“Morning,” you greeted. 

It took him a moment to assess where he was and why he was there, but he smiled back.

“Morning,” he echoed. 

“What do you want to do today?” you asked, having no plans of your own. 

He thought for a moment, waking up a little more. 

“Anything,” he said, closing his eyes again and resting his head closer to you. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and he murmured something unintelligible. You chuckled and continued while he lay happily beneath your fingers.

You decided to get out of the house for the day and ran some much needed errands. You relished the ability to be able to go out, even though your heart stopped in your chest when you saw someone who looked like Cameron.

“Fuck,” you breathed, telling your own brain over and over that it wasn’t him. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and it took Spencer a moment to realize what happened. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, but then he saw your face. He looked around and spotted the same man you had. Same build, same hair, even the same kind of clothes. “Oh,” he said, pulling you closer to him. “You’re safe. He’s not here.”

“I know,” you said, almost frustrated with yourself. “I know that, but apparently my heart doesn’t.” You could still feel the fluttering.

“I know,” he said. And you could tell by his voice that he’d been there. He held you for a moment until your heart had slowed down. 

“Okay,” you said. “I think I’m good.” 

He looked at you a moment longer, as if making his own assessment, and then followed you back down the sidewalk. It didn’t happen again while you were out, but you were happy to get back home nonetheless. 

You made dinner together and had a relaxing night. Morgan had texted about meeting up to look at a potential new project tomorrow, and you had agreed. Spencer wanted to get back into the research paper he’d started for the university before everything with Cameron had begun, so he was content to spend the day at the school’s library. 

In the morning, you met with Morgan and a real estate agent at a rundown house not too far from your apartment. It needed a lot of love, but that’s what you and Morgan were willing to give. The price was right, and you knew for the neighborhood, if you got it looking good, you could probably flip it and sell it for double what it was worth right now.

Morgan decided to put in an offer, and you waited to hear back until the evening. The sellers were anxious to get out and move to their new place, so they accepted. Spencer was still at the library, but you invited Morgan back to your place for a celebratory drink. 

“To us,” you said, raising your glasses. You’d picked up cheap champagne on the way back. “Who would have thought two kids from Chicago would be running their own business?” you asked. 

“Me,” Morgan winked. “I always knew it’d be us kickin’ it together, making bank.”

“You did not,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I knew  _ I _ would,” he teased. “Where’s the kid?” he asked. “Don’t you guys basically live together now?”

“Researching for a paper,” you said. “I doubt if I’ll hear from him for a few more hours. He gets really into it.”

“Oh I know,” Morgan laughed. “I got that door onto his frame,” Morgan said. “Not that he’d know, seeing as he hasn’t been back over yet.” He looked at you suggestively. 

“Thanks,” you said. “Yeah we’ve just been chilling here. Not quite ready to go back there just yet. Maybe in a week or so.”

“So… it’s going well then?” he asked. “You and him.”

A childish grin swept over your face. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. “It just kinda feels like… right? Natural almost.”

“I knew it,” he said smugly. You rolled your eyes. 

“I wouldn’t have,” you said. “I don’t know how you did.” He opened his mouth but you interrupted, “Don’t say profiler.”

He laughed and shook his head.    
“Well, when y'all start popping out little baby geniuses that save the world, I want eighty percent credit.”

You laughed, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The fact that Morgan took your relationship that seriously, that he knew you basically lived together, that he saw a future for you and Spencer, meant a lot to you. It grounded your relationship to reality.

“When are you going to let me babysit?” you asked. “Give you guys a break?”

“When you stop holding him like he’s a poison football,” Morgan teased. 

“I do not!” you laughed, hitting his arm.

“You did.”

“I mean, once. What do you want from me, I’d never held one of those.”   
“Maybe don’t refer to my son as ‘one of those,’” he added with a smirk. 

You rolled your eyes and you both laughed.

“I should get going,” Morgan said, looking at his watch. “Speaking of the poison football.”

Your heart sank. 

“Oh, okay,” you said. You didn’t really want to be alone. “Tell the fam I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said. 

He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading out. You were sure you could have asked to come along, but you didn’t want to invade on whatever plans they had for the night. 

You looked at your phone. Nothing from Spencer. You wondered if there were anyone else you could hang out with. The team the probably away, but maybe Garcia was around. You gave her a call. 

“My darling princess of reconstruction, what do I owe this pleasure?” she greeted. 

“Oh,” you laughed, a bit stunned by the greeting. “I, um, just wanted to see if you were free tonight.”

“As it turns out, I am just heading to my car, with absolutely no plans to follow. Should I come pick you up for a night of revelry?” she asked. 

“I was thinking like pizza and a movie, does that count as revelry?”

“It sure does. My place?”

“Yeah, if you’re swinging by, I can just have Spencer pick me up on his way home from the library,” you said. “Save me a drive.”

“I’ll be there as fast as my wings can carry me,” she said. 

True to her word, she picked you up soon after. You texted Spencer to let him know what was going on, and by the time you’d picked up pizza and gotten to Garcia’s apartment, you got a response from him that he’d pick you up around midnight. You worried that he might be stressing out too much about this paper, but maybe he just wanted one good night of research to start him off.

Bellies full of pizza, you wandered onto her sofa. 

“What are you in the mood for?” she asked. 

Perusing her shelves, you stopped on one you hadn’t seen in a while. 

“How about this?” you asked, pulling out  _ Pride and Prejudice. _

“Mr. Darcy is possibly the hottest fictional character ever,” she grinned, pulling the DVD from your hand and putting it in the player.

“Nothing’s sexier than consent,” you agreed. 

“Honestly!” she agreed. “She could have told him to fuck off and he would have. Not many like him around these days,” she frowned. 

“Do you find that a lot?” you asked. 

“Yikes, yes,” she shivered. “You said you didn’t really date right?” 

“Yeah, no, not really. The one not taking no for an answer was enough.”

“Seriously,” she shook her head. “No kidding there. I’m glad he’s gone for good,” she said. “Kinda wish I could hit  _ him _ with a door instead of our sweet baby angel boy.”

You chuckled. 

“Me too,” you agreed. 

“How’s that going?” she asked.    
The two of you sat down and the opening scenes started to play. 

“Really good,” you smiled. 

“You seem happy,” she said. 

“We are.”

She was smiling as if she too were in love. 

“I’m so glad,” she said. “He deserves it. He deserves you. And you deserve him.”

Your heart felt too big for your chest. The fact that she thought that highly of you was incredible. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, blushing. “It’s funny, I haven’t really been able to talk about it with anyone. You guys are the only people I know here really, and most of you aren’t in the state most of the time.”

“I know,” she frowned. “It does suck. But, we usually find time like once a month or every other month to have a girl’s night. Even if it’s just for an hour to go get drinks. So you definitely need to come to the next one.”   
“When is it?” you asked, excited. 

“I think we penciled in two-ish weeks from now, whenever like two Saturdays from now is. I’ll look at my calendar and text you the info.”

“Great,” you smiled. 

“Usually JJ hosts ‘cause she’s the only one with a house. More space for shenanigans. Will usually takes the kids out for a while or upstairs. He’s good about it.”

“Awesome.”

“Think your lover boy could handle a night by himself?” she teased. 

“I’m sure he’d find a few books to read, just like tonight,” you smiled. 

“Or the boys could have a night,” Garcia said. “And we could meet up in the middle of the night and see who’s made worse life choices.”

You laughed hard at this, almost spilling your wine. She laughed with you, and you realized how you’d been longing for this for a long time. She was a good friend, and you were lucky to have her.

The two of you got comfortable on the couch and settled in after Garcia opened some wine. During Mr. Darcy’s screen absence, you chatted a little. The couch was comfortable, and you found yourself sleepy from wine and warmth. You had almost fallen asleep when you heard a knock at the door, after the credits had started to roll.

“That’d be my ride,” you said, perking up. 

Garcia looked equally sleepy, but came to attention at the noise as well. You gathered your stuff while she let Spencer in. Walking up to him, you saw his tired eyes. He seemed happy, though, like you would after a good run. 

“Hey,” you said, kissing him quickly. 

“Did you have a good night?” he asked you and Garcia. 

“I’d rate it ten out of ten, would do again,” Garcia smiled at you. 

“Agreed,” you nodded. 

Spencer wrapped his arm around you when he noticed you had started to lean on him. You didn’t realize it until he had done it that you were half asleep against him. He kissed the top of your head and chuckled. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said softly. 

Garcia nearly squealed with delight. 

“I love it, I love it,” she danced. “You two make me happy.”

She seemed like a proud mom on prom night, and you laughed. 

“Glad to be of service,” you grinned. 

“Night, Garcia,” Spencer said, turning the two of you towards the door. 

“Night!” you said. 

“Drive fast, take chances,” she waved. 

You walked with Spencer down to his car. You were still a little tipsy and more than a little tired. He opened the door for you and helped you in. 

“How was research?” you asked. “What exactly did you research?” you asked. “I realized I never asked.”

He pressed his lips together, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“You did,” he said. “I just… It’s… the psychology of stalking behaviors, and how they can be identified and possibly treated using cognitive therapies and some medications.”

“Oh,” you said. “And you… are interested in this?”

He took a breath and nodded. 

“It rather directly affected me,” he said, glancing at you. “I would prefer no one else see someone they love in the same position.”

You reached out your hand and took one of his off the wheel to bring to your lips. 

“Superhero,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. Once again you were reminded of his unending intellect and propensity to do good. 

“How was the house?” Spencer asked. “I know you said you guys got it, but how bad is it?”

“So bad,” you laughed. “Although not as bad as Morgan’s house. It’s a good project to get going.”

“That’ll be good,” Spencer said.

“Without your classes, you could come visit,” you brightened. 

“Somehow I think me being around power tools is not the best idea,” he cringed. 

“Well, we can get lunch anyway.”

“Deal,” he smiled. 


	17. Chapter 17

You rounded up your crew and got started on the house the following week. First to greet you was Manny, arriving earlier than you and Morgan. When you got out of the car, he nearly ran to you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you so tight you couldn’t breathe. 

“M-Manny,” you sputtered. “T-to tight.”

“Sorry,” he said, releasing you. “I just… After everything that happened. I’m just happy you’re okay,” he said almost shyly. 

“Me too,” you muttered, rubbing your sore ribs.

“And I hear you got a new beaux out of it,” he said happily. 

“I mean it wasn’t like, a direct result, but yeah,” you laughed. “I guess so.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, you’re not alone in that department,” he said proudly. “I didn’t get a beaux, but… what’s the girl version?” he asked. Shrugging he added, “Name’s Marissa. Met her when I was visiting my nana.”

“That’s great,” you smiled. 

Tim and Ryan pulled up then, and got out of their cars. You got the same treatment from them, except with added competition to be the first hugger. 

“Alright, I’m alive, we’re all good, we can get going,” you said after everyone had hugged you. 

You and Morgan led the charge through the house to give them the tour. You pointed out the projects that you would be working on, and encouraged them to make their own suggestions. The house was smaller per floor, but had three stories. Your goal was to maximize the space and make it as big feeling as possible. You had your plans for that, and you were excited to get going.

It worked well in that you were working during the day while Spencer worked on his research paper, and you would both come back and spend the night together. After a week, you were able to go back to Spencer’s place and feel comfortable. You had consciously decided not to let that creep ruin what was once a second home to you. With the new door and everything repaired, you felt like you’d gone back in time. While you still spent a fair amount of nights at your place, the times when it was easier for Spencer to be in your apartment were fine for both of you.

“When’s the girl’s night again?” Spencer asked. He was going over his calendar sitting on the couch. 

“This weekend,” you replied, excited. “What are you going to do?”

“I think Matt is having people over his place,” Spencer frowned. 

“You don’t want to go?” you asked. 

He shrugged. 

“I’m not sure they really want me there,” he confided. 

You straddled him and held his face in your hands. 

“Of course they do,” you kissed him. “They’re your friends.”

He sighed and bit his lip. 

“Do you ever have that voice in the back of your head, though? The one that tells you they’re just tolerating you, that they don’t really want you around? That they’re just pretending?”

You let out a breath and settled onto his lap. 

“All the time,” you said. He looked relieved. “But I know it’s not true. And I know even more that it’s not true about you.”

“How?” he asked. 

“Because I hear how they talk about you, I see how they treat you. You are loved, Spencer Reid. Deal with it.”

You kissed his forehead and dismounted his lap. 

“So go hang out with them, take a break from the research, take a break from me,” you said, pouring yourself a glass of water. 

“Why would I want that?” he asked, joining you in the kitchen. 

“Sorry,” you realized. “That’s probably that same voice in the back of my head.”

He gave a weary smile and hugged you. 

“I suppose I can bear a night away,” he said. “Well, evening, anyway. As long as I don’t, um, have to sleep alone.”

You sighed and nestled into his chest. While you were moderately sure your nightmares would have gone with the threat of Cameron, you were sure his were longer lasting and more persistent. 

“I won’t leave you to sleep alone,” you promised. 

He smiled fondly. 

“I remember when you first suggested our ‘slumber parties,’” he chuckled. “I was so scared.”

“Scared?” you laughed.

“Of course,” he blushed. “Being close to you was terrifying. What if I did something wrong? I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way. And um, you know, in the mornings, sometimes, things happen that guys can’t control.”

You snickered. 

“For the record, I never felt uncomfortable. I always wanted you closer to me. And once I realized what I felt… I used to pretend that it was real. With you wrapped around me, it was easy to pretend.”

You smiled at the bittersweet memories. You’d felt so conflicted in those moments, wanting what you wanted, but not wanting to torture yourself with visions a future you never thought you’d have.

“Me too,” he admitted shyly. “I used to let myself imagine that we were together, that when you turned in my arms you would kiss me. That I could kiss you.”

You smiled at him. The two of you were very different, but somehow the same in a lot of ways. 

“I feel like we wasted so much time,” you said.

You stood up on your toes and kissed him. 

“We could have been doing that a lot longer.”

His eyes fluttered open and he smiled.    
“I wouldn’t trade anything that happened,” he said. Then, rubbing a spot on his head, he added, “Well, maybe the getting hit with the door bit.”

“Yeah,” you frowned. “That wasn’t the best part.”

“But this is,” he said. “This, being together. It’s… the best part.”

“Of?”

“Everything. My life,” he shrugged, as if it should be obvious.

“Mmm,” you said, leaning up to kiss him again. “I agree. Vehemently.”

You pushed him back against the fridge and kissed him harder. Running your hands along his chest, you quickly unbuttoned his shirt. He took the hint and the two of you were soon rid of your clothes. You jumped and he caught you, carrying you to the kitchen counter. The two of you made a mess of the kitchen, things on the counter were sent flying. You came so hard, you scratched his back with your nails. You were sweating and breathing hard, lips meeting almost without feeling as your entire body tingled. 

“The best part,” he smiled, kissing you again as you got down from the counter. 

 

***   
  


The week moved on and you started to get going on the new house. It was great to be with the crew again, doing what you loved. This time, you didn’t have to look over your should constantly.

Cameron had been arrested and had pled guilty to the charges. The FBI and local law enforcement didn’t take kindly to an attempted murder of one of their own, so the sentence had been set for a minimum of fifty years for all charges. He would be an old man if he ever got out. Which, as Spencer and Morgan loved to remind you, was not going to happen.

So you were able to hang out, have a beer at the end of the day with your boys, go shopping and eat lunch with Spencer wherever you wanted. It was freeing, and you were reminded of how precious it was to be so.

When the weekend rolled around, the girls sent out a group text with the details for that night. Sweatpants were mandatory, everyone had to bring some kind of food. JJ would provide the assorted beverages. It was going to start at eight, and go until whenever. She had an extra bedroom with a king sized mattress, so any of you were welcome to stay over granted you didn’t mind potentially sharing that mattress.

With only minimal persuasion, you convinced Spencer to go through with going to the guy’s night at Matt’s house. Spencer seemed to almost look forward to it, having finished his paper, and he dropped you off at JJ’s before heading down the short distance to Matt’s house. 

You stood on her doorstep with the plate of brownies in your hand. You saw the PlaySkool bikes and a little plastic house in the lawn, saw the stepping stones with the whole family’s handprints on them. You could already feel the love radiating off of the house before you even went inside. 

Once JJ opened the door, you couldn’t stop smiling. She welcomed you in. You were the first to arrive. Her husband was picking up a few remaining toys from the living room. 

“Hey,” he said, walking over with an outstretched hand. “I’m Will.”

You could detect a hint of an accent, and wondered if it used to be stronger. You gave your name.    
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he nodded. 

You grinned, loving the bit of southern that showed itself in him. He looked a little tired, as did JJ, but they both looked happy. 

Two blonde kids came running into the room, then, and hid behind their father’s legs. 

“Whoah,” he smiled, tousling the hair of the younger one before picking him up. “Ready to go to grandma’s?” he asked. 

“Yah,” he said softly, eying you wearily. 

“Alright then, go get your bags.”

He set the little one down and the two of them were off, giving you a wide berth as they went. 

“Sorry, they’re a little shy,” JJ smiled. 

“They’re cute,” you mused. “Going to grandma’s for a sleepover too?” you asked Will. 

He chuckled. 

“Oh no, going out to meet some friends that came into town. Won’t disturb your ladies night.”

“Oh sounds fun,” you nodded. “Have a good time.”

He gave you a salute as he headed to the door. He kissed JJ and rounded up the boys into the car.

Suddenly, JJ hugged you. 

“Oh, hi,” you laughed, wrapping your arms around her. 

She pulled away and looked slightly embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” she laughed. “I just… I’m glad you’re okay. After everything.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. 

“And… I’m glad that you’re with Spencer,” she teased. 

“Me too,” you said. 

“He’s my best friend,” she said. “And I just want to see him happy.”

“Me too,” you said again. 

She sighed, as if you’d thankfully passed some kind of test. 

“Good,” she said. “And he’s… doing okay?” she asked. “You know, with everything.”

You realized she must know about Maeve, and nodded seriously. 

“Definitely triggering,” you admitted. “But… we managed it.    
“Good,” she breathed. “Now. What can I get you to drink?” she asked, heading to the kitchen. “Here, let me take those.”

She took the brownies from you and put them on the kitchen counter, unwrapping them. 

“These look dangerously good,” she smiled. 

“They are,” you promised. “And I’ll just take a glass of whiskey if you have it.”

“One whiskey coming up,” she said, rooting around her cabinet. 

The doorbell rang. 

“I’ll get it,” you said, so she didn’t have to delay her search. You opened the door to Prentiss. “Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hey yourself,” she smiled, stepping inside. She looked hesitant, like she wanted to ask you something. She tentatively reached out her arms, and you did the work for her, pulling her into a hug. 

“Glad you’re okay,” she said softly. 

“Glad to be okay,” you smiled. 

“I’m opening the whiskey,” JJ yelled from the kitchen. “You want your usual?”

“Yes please,” Prentiss smiled. 

You didn’t think you’d ever see Prentiss in any kind of lounge wear. She just didn’t seem like the kind of person that would ever be out of a suit or dress clothes. Still, she somehow made those sweatpants and loose t-shirt look professional.

Before you could close the door behind her, Garcia pulled up in her car. She came nearly running at you in her cheetah print onesie. Her left arm held a huge bag of chocolate, but she still managed to give you a bear hug when she got to you. 

“My Barb the Builder Queen,” she said, hugging you tight. “Lives to fight another day.”

“Indeed,” you grinned. “Come inside and give me some of that,” you said, pointing to her bag of goodies.

You walked with her to the kitchen, finding Prentiss enjoying her whiskey while JJ had started a glass of wine. 

“Wine?” JJ asked Garcia. She nodded vehemently. 

“Here’s your whiskey,” Prentiss said, pushing the glass towards you. 

“Thanks,” you said. 

“Oh, forgot my chips and guac in the car,” Prentiss realized. “Be right back.”

She left to get her snacks, and the three of you hung out in the kitchen for a moment. When she returned, she brought Tara with her, who had just arrived.

“Hey,” she smiled, not hesitating to hug you. “Still doing okay?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. 

“And Spencer?” she asked. You knew this was a layered question. Specifically, how were you and Spencer doing dating wise, and how was Spencer doing coping with what had happened to the two of you.

“We’re good,” you said. “He’s good.”

She seemed content with that answer, and you were sure more would be discussed as the night went on.

Tara had brought a large fruit salad to complement the junk food, and it seemed like a nice balance. 

“Excuse me,” Garcia said, tapping on her glass with the fork from the salad bowl. “I’d like to make a toast.”

Everyone raised their glasses. 

“To (Y/N). May that nauseatin g, poisonous, lumpy toad rot in jail for the rest of his life. And may this squad of true and righteous queens live on, ever prospering into the bright future.”

You chuckled as you clinked glasses with the girls.

“Cheers to that,” you muttered before drinking. 

The whiskey was good, going down smooth and filling you with warmth almost immediately. 

“Alright, everyone grab your drinks and some food and let’s go relax,” JJ announced. 

Everyone did so, bringing everything over to the coffee table that sat in front of the sectional. You sat in the corner seat, Tara on your right, and JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia taking the other, longer, end of the sectional.

Once you were settled, you drank a little more and munched on your snacks. 

“Where’s Will tonight?” Prentiss asked. 

“Out with some friends,” she said. “Boys are with grandma.”

“Ooo, whole house to ourselves,” Garcia crooned. 

“I know,” JJ said, raising her eyebrows playfully. 

“That’s all I have all the time,” Prentiss laughed. “Well, except for Sergio.”

“Your boyfriend?” you asked, surprised. She snorted. 

“My cat,” she explained. 

“Ohhh,” you laughed. “Well, I mean I wouldn’t have been too surprised,” you said. “In my head, Sergio’s the kind of guy you’d find on the cover of a romance novel.”

“Oh, lucky me,” she smiled. “Alas, he’s just a black cat.”   
“Not  _ just _ ,” Garcia complained. “Sergio is a gift. Super affectionate, very cute.”

“True,” Prentiss said.

“Yeah, just me and my apartment too,” Tara added.    
“Same,” Garcia shrugged. 

“No luck with bee whatever?” JJ asked.    
“Bumble,” Garcia laughed. “And no. Sadly, everyone I… looked into is very creepy.”

“I’m sure they don’t put whatever you find in their profile,” you guessed. 

“Ah, no,” she agreed. 

“I don’t have time for that,” Tara shrugged. “Whenever I am home, I just want to hang out and sleep, maybe watch TV for an hour. I never know when we’re going to be called away again. I want to have fun with my time. Seems like dating would be hit or miss at best.”

“Mostly miss,” Prentiss agreed. “And no one understands our schedules.”

“Except Will,” Tara said. 

“Eh, most of the time,” JJ offered. “It gets a little tense sometimes.”

“Sometimes, but still. He gets it for the most part,” Garcia said.

“That he does,” she admitted. “And I make my time here count, like Tara said.”

“Any more kids on the horizon?” you asked.

“God no,” she laughed. “Two’s my limit.”

“Why mess with perfection?” Garcia smiled. 

“What about you?” Prentiss asked.    
“Oh I don’t want kids,” you laughed. 

“No, what’s it like with Spencer so far?” she asked tentatively. “Good?”

“Oh,” you blushed. 

You weren’t used to having attention of so many women focused on you. You felt… important, and like you would be heard. It was different, and nice. 

“It’s… really good,” you said, brushing your hair nervously behind your ear. “He’s, well, you know how great he is,” you said. They nodded with smirks on their faces. “He’s so… respectful? And wonderful. I’m not sure what I did to deserve that,” you muttered, taking a drink. 

“Girl, you deserve it,” Garcia said. “And he deserves his queen.”

You blushed again and felt extremely happy. You were a ways into your whiskey now, JJ had poured you a large glass, and you were delightfully tipsy. Everyone seemed so happy for you. You didn’t even know them that well, and yet somehow they’d let you into this wonderful circle they had created. A feminine, positive, loving circle you were glad to be a part of.

“He certainly treats me like a queen,” you agreed. 

“I would say if he ever doesn’t let me know, but,” JJ said rolling her eyes. “Obviously he will.”

“Obviously?” you asked, curious what she meant by it. 

“Everyone can see how bananas he is for you,” Garcia said, as if it were obvious. “Like from the  _ beginning _ ,” she said dramatically. “Everyone knew you’d end up together.”

You glanced at Tara who had mentioned the same thing.    
“I didn’t know,” you laughed.

“You were both ridiculous,” Prentiss said. It could have sounded annoyed, but it sounded loving. “I wondered what took so long.”

“I think we’re just both… similar in some aspects.”

They looked at you, waiting for further explanation. 

“I don’t know, like… we both didn’t think it would be possible for the other to actually reciprocate?” you asked. 

“Why?” Garcia asked. “You’re beautiful and wonderful angel babies who deserve happiness!”

“First of all, thank you,” you laughed. “But that’s not really how our brains tell us we are most of the time,” you shrugged. “We’re working on it.”

“That’s… really good,” Prentiss said. She didn’t sound surprised, more like impressed. “I think he needs that.”

“You’ve already started building up his confidence,” JJ said. “He would have come up with some excuse not to go to Matt’s tonight before you.”

You smiled slightly, glad to hear it.

“Oh, speaking of which, let’s see who’s made a worse life decision,” Garcia smiled, pulling out her phone. 

She Facetimed Luke, and the first thing that came up on the screen was Roxy. 

“My baby!” she swooned. 

“Hi honey,” you waved at the camera. Roxy’s ears perked up when she heard you, though she didn't register the screen presence. 

The camera moved to Luke who was sitting on a couch. Light from a TV reflected onto his face. 

“Hi,” he waved. “How’s the girl’s night?”

“I think you have the advantage, seeing as you have the most perfect dog in the world over there,” Garcia frowned. 

“Hey baby girl,” Morgan said when the camera was pointed at him. He was holding a beer and getting something from the kitchen. “Hello, ladies,” he waved. 

The camera panned to Matt who had two forty ounce beers taped to his hands. 

“Hi,” he said, dejected, and waved his can-hands around.

Prentiss laughed.    
“What did they do to you?” she asked. 

“Edward Forty-Hands,” Luke said, turning the camera back around. “But he’s taking forever to drink it.”

The camera pointed back around and saw Rossi sitting, smoking a cigar by the open back door. He waved. Finally, the camera landed on Spencer who was sitting right next to Luke. He had his hands in his lap and looked like he was on a nervous first date.

“Hey,” you said. “How’s it going?”

“So far, he’s taught us the history of every drinking game we’ve started, as well as informed us on the brewing process and origins of said drinks,” Luke said. 

You giggled. 

“Sounds like a thrilling night.”

“Just text me when you want me to pick you up,” Spencer said. You noted the slightly eager tone. 

“Oh, she won’t be ready to go for  _ hours _ ,” Luke teased. “You’ll have to play twister with us.”

“Twister?” Garcia laughed. “I would watch that Morgan play twister for the rest of my life,” she teased.

Luke started laughing and panned the camera to Morgan who dramatically pushed the arrow on the twister board. 

“Please don’t break it, my kids love that game,” Matt complained, unable to do anything about the aggressive spinning because of his hands. 

“Give that to me,” Rossi said, taking the board. “Let the adult lead.”

“Things are heating up over here, we’re gonna go,” Luke laughed. 

“Film everything,” Garcia said.    
Spencer got in one last wave to you before Luke hung up. You wondered if they were actually going to play, or if they were just joking. You could only imagine what that game would look like and you laughed. 

“Well, I’d say we’re making the better life choices,” JJ laughed. 

“Yeah,” Tara agreed, taking a sip of wine. 

You spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing with the girls. The camaraderie was nearly overwhelming and you couldn’t believe your luck at finding such a nice group. You cursed Morgan again for keeping you out of this part of his life for so long.

When it was getting pretty late, you texted Spencer who immediately reported that he was on his way. You were the first to leave, as Prentiss and Garcia had decided to stay the night. Tara was still sobering up, and you offered her a ride home, but she said she’d be okay in a little bit.

Spencer rang the doorbell and everyone got up to hug him. Garcia hugged him a little too tight and he had to tap out of it as if in a wrestling match. He slid his arm around your waist when everyone was done hugging him, almost as if to ward off any other contact with anyone else, and bid them goodnight before leading the two of you outside to his car. 

“Did you have at least some fun?” you asked, as he opened the car door for you. 

“Yes,” he said, sounding surprised. “I actually did. It was fascinating.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “Were you studying them?”

“No,” he dismissed. But then, “Well…”

You laughed as he started the car and began the short journey home. 

“The peer pressure to drink more than the human body should endure… I’m not sure how that one made it past evolution,” he shook his head. “Doesn’t seem very beneficial to the species.”

“It promotes a tribe, a community which would, in turn provide protection,” you posited. 

He looked at you, surprised. You shrugged. 

“I can guess some sciencey things,” you laughed. 

“It’s a good point,” he said. “Though I’m not sure how protected this tribe would have been from anything more than a cat.”

“Yeah, we had a bit to drink too,” you admitted. “But in our defense, we didn’t tape our beverages to anyone’s hands.”

“Women are the superior beings,” Spencer smirked.

You pulled into the parking lot and went upstairs to your apartment.

Sighing, happy to be home, you got changed and slipping into bed, Spencer following close behind you. As he held you close, you closed your eyes, content, and fell asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

“What is it?” you asked, watching Spencer wipe his finger along his coffee table and look at it. 

“Dust,” he said, shaking his hand. 

“Oh,” you said, unsurprised. 

You had come to his apartment to pick up some books. 

“Yeah, I guess… we don't really come here that much anymore,” you said. 

And while the memories of the trauma that had occurred here had faded, you both had just stayed at your place for most of the time. 

“Does that mean we kind of live together?” you asked. 

He chuckled softly. 

“I think we’ve been living together for some time.”   
You nodded, remembering even before you were together how much time you’d spent together, all the nights together too, since you’d found out how helpful it was.

“I guess I just didn’t register it,” you shrugged. “Maybe we should look for a new place,” you suggested. 

“A new place?” he asked, curious.

“One that’s… ours?” you suggested shyly. “A little bigger, a little nicer maybe? I mean two incomes helping out and all, could be good.”

He smiled softly and looked at you. 

“You want that with me?” he asked. “To build a home that’s ours?”

You blushed and met his gaze. 

“Of course,” you said, in nearly a whisper. “D-do you?”

He walked swiftly across the room and hugged you, forcing a surprised laugh from his chest.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you chuckled.

As you scrolled through various apartment finding websites that night, Spencer told you of an opportunity he had been given. 

“A summer course?” you asked, intrigued. 

He nodded, looking excited. 

“It would center on signatures of murder,” he said. “It’s fascinating what people are compelled to do,” he added.

“I’m sure a lot of people think that,” you smiled. “So you’re going to do it?”

“I think so,” he said, running his hand through his hair. 

“Cool,” you grinned. “I wanna audit, for real this time.”

He let out a breath that was almost a laugh. 

“Really?” he asked. “You want to learn about signatures of murderers?”

You shrugged, closing your laptop. 

“Maybe I just have the hots for teacher,” you smirked, settling onto his lap. 

He was flustered, exactly the reaction you’d been going for. You kissed his forehead and sat back on his lap.

“It’s not a cheery subject,” he warned. 

“Really?” you feigned surprise. 

“I’m just saying, you could be… I don’t know, reading about dogs instead.”

“There are plenty of hours in the day.” You smiled, but it faltered. “Do you… not want me to go?” you asked. 

“What? No,” Spencer said. “You can come. I just… I understand why Morgan kept you out of all that stuff. It doesn’t exactly nourish a relationship.”

“It’s not like you’re hunting these guys anymore,” you shrugged. “I don’t think education will taint us.”

Spencer bit his lip and nodded, not fully convinced, but not wanting to argue. 

“Besides, I love it when you wear those suits and walk around and talk. It’s all of my favorite things you do and I can just stare unabashedly.”

He chuckled and then slyly slid a hand up your thigh. 

“Is it  _ all _ the favorite things?” he asked, uncharacteristically cheekily.

It caught you by surprise and you laughed as he lifted you up and brought you to the bedroom.

 

***

 

Luke dropped Roxy off the following week before heading out to a case in Louisiana. By now she was very comfortable in your apartment and more than little protective of you. She loved Spencer, but on the street, if a man so much as looked at you, she gave him what you and Spencer had termed the death glare. You couldn’t help but feel honored that she would probably kill to protect you.

Since Luke had registered her as a service dog, you were able to bring her anywhere you wanted to go. Today you were going with Spencer to the university. You were definitely the more excited out of the two of you. For Spencer, this was old hat. He had been teaching for a while now. But for you, it was all new. While you’d sat in on his one class ages ago, you had only really seen him interacting with his students. That was awesome, but you wanted to see him in action. You wanted to see him command a room. You loved his quiet nature, but something about him taking control of something made your stomach twist pleasantly. 

You got there about forty-five minutes before the lecture would begin. You helped him unpack his bag and get his presentation pulled up while Roxy sat at the front of the desk, carefully watching you.

You only noticed someone walk into the room because Roxy sat up, suddenly at full attention. You turned your head to see a young man had walked into the room. Checking your phone, you realized the class would begin in ten minutes. You waved at the young man, who looked a little alarmed at the large German Shepherd at your feet. Roxy was silent, paying this man her full attention. You pet her head to let her know she could relax, you weren’t in any danger. 

“Hi,” Spencer greeted. 

“Hi,” the man responded, taking a seat in one of the middle rows. You were down at the center with Spencer, the seats in a semi-circle auditorium style. He looked down on you. 

“She’s friendly if you want to say hi,” you offered, as he was staring at the dog. 

“I don’t really like dogs,” he said uneasily. He then unceremoniously opened a book and started reading. 

You shrugged and turned to Spencer.

“You ready?” you asked, wrapping your hand around his waist. 

He smiled at you. 

“You’re going to make me nervous sitting in the audience.”

“Why?” you laughed.

“I’ll be distracted.”

“By me?”

His gaze flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. 

“I’m always distracted by you. One way or another,” he said. 

You giggled and kissed him, leaving him to sit down in the front row before any more students could file in and steal the best view.

You were glad you had. The room quickly filled up. Roxy sat obediently between your legs, watching everyone carefully. You, however, only watched one person carefully. Spencer.

“Hello,” he said to the class, clapping his hands together and giving a nervous smile. “Welcome to Studies in Signatures of Killers. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid, retired FBI profiler. If you’re wondering if this class is for you, let me ask you something.”

He started pacing the room slowly. His words were chosen and careful, his eye contact with the students purposeful and intense.

“Who here has ever done something they can’t explain?” At first no one raised their hands. “Ever said something you didn’t mean? Done something, on a date, perhaps, that you later questioned where did that even come from?”

A lot of hands went up with that, and he smiled. Some students laughed. 

“In this class we’ll be exploring a lot of the same impulses and behaviors, but in violent offenders.”

You were  _ in _ this. He commanded the room better than you’d imagined he would. You tore your gaze away from him to look at the students. They were all enraptured by him.

“We will explore not  _ how _ offenders do what they do, but  _ why _ . We’ll study cases and look at behaviors that will be both graphic and unsettling. We don’t do this for sensational reasons. We will honor these victims by learning from them. We will honor them by taking what we learned and stopping the next offender before he can offend. Now. Signatures of a serial killer.”

He started his presentation. It was an overview of some of the most famous serial killers and what they had left as signatures to their crimes. Every so often, his gaze would fall on you, and in the beginning, he faltered a little. He would look at you and pause or stutter. But as he grew more confident, he was able to include you in his eye contact with the rest of the students seamlessly. You knew that big brain of his had like seven trains of thought going at the same time, and couldn’t help but wonder if at least one of them had the same thoughts you had about what you would do to him on that desk the minute these kids were out of the room. 

The class flew by, and once you’d stopped imagining pinning him to the desk, you did actually learn a thing or two about serial killers. After the class was dismissed, a few students stuck around to thank him about the class, or, if they had audited, to ask if there were any more openings.

A few wanted to pet Roxy, but none stayed too long as they had other things to get to. When you were alone with Spencer, you watched as he started to pack up his things. You walked over slowly to him and pressed yourself against his back. 

He jumped slightly, having not heard you approach, but soon softened at your touch and turned around. 

“You were amazing,” you grinned, your lips hovering over his. He cleared his throat softly so he could speak.

“T-thank you.”

“I hope I wasn’t too much of a distraction.”

He chuckled. 

“It was rather clear what you were thinking early on,” Spencer smirked. “But after you started actually listening to me, it was easier to think about teaching instead of… other things.”

You smiled and pulled his waist against yours. 

“I do love other things,” you whispered. 

The door opened at the top of the stairs abruptly, causing you to jump back as if you were a teenager caught making out. 

It was just the kid who didn't like Roxy. He looked displeased to see that Roxy was still there. 

“I, uh, thought I left something in here,” he said. It sounded like an excuse. 

“I don’t see anything, but you’re welcome to look around,” Spencer offered. 

He glanced around the room quickly and shook his head. 

“Must have been somewhere else, thanks.”

The door closed, and you were going to resume your seduction of the professor, but Roxy brushed against your leg. 

“I think she wants to go for a walk,” Spencer said, sounding somewhat disappointed. 

You frowned, but Roxy looked up at you and you smiled again. 

“Alright then,” you said. “Probably not the best place to seduce you if we want you to keep your job anyway.”

“Maybe not,” Spencer agreed.

 

***

 

Luke picked up Roxy the following week, right before you and Spencer went to visit your first potential apartment. The pictures had seemed promising, lots of space, big windows, but the reality was far different. The place smelled like mold. The windows were probably original, and you could feel the air coming through the cracks. The floors were scratched, and there were several poorly spackled holes on the yellow walls. You didn’t spend more than five minutes in the place before leaving. 

Part of you wanted to get it just so you could fix it up, but you had enough projects without an unpaid job. You’d almost finished with the house, but still had a few more steps to go. Still, Morgan had another property on the ropes waiting for you.

You went back to your apartment with Spencer and collapsed on the couch. 

“It was just the first one,” he offered, sitting down next to you. “I’m sure the next one will be better.”

“I hope so,” you frowned. “Not too many are around this time of year, not with everything we’re looking for.”

He pressed his lips together. 

“I don’t really care where we are,” he admitted. “As long as we’re together.”

You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes. 

“I mean, I’d like a little more closet space,” you teased. “But I suppose the being together thing is nice too.”

You leaned against him and sighed. It really was nice, you weren’t joking about that. Being with Spencer was quite possibly the best thing about your life right now. You were scared to tell him just how good it was. You were scared to do anything that might jeopardize this. What if you fucked it up? What if he hated living with you. Granted, you basically already did live together, but what if he realized that you took too long in the bathroom in the morning, that you didn’t always empty the dishwasher. That sometimes you forgot to refill the water pitcher. 

You could feel your brain processing all of this like an overworked engine. Spencer seemed to too, because he kissed the top of your head. 

“What are you thinking about so intently?” he asked softly, curiously. 

You frowned, hesitant to say anything. You fingered your pendant, the two people waltzing. You hadn’t taken it off since he’d given it to you. You thought about the promise you’d made to him after your walk in the park. That you would try to let him know you. All of you. And that meant the insecure parts too.

You turned to him and sighed. 

“I just… What if you don’t like it, living with me?” you asked. His brows furrowed. “I mean, what if it’s fine now, but whenever we move, or like eventually in the future, you get really annoyed with all the annoying shit I do and then we break up and never talk again?” 

You felt your heart start beating faster. It almost felt like a panic attack. 

Spencer cupped your face in his hands and shook his head. 

“Breathe,” he ordered. Then with a small laugh, “You’re like a mirror, you know that?”

It was your turn to look confused. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, curiosity taking over panic for a moment.

“Every time we have these conversations, admissions of insecurities… I find that you always voice what I’m feeling as well.”   
“What could  _ you _ possibly do that would annoy me?” you asked incredulously. 

Spencer looked around the room and smiled. 

“Oh I don’t know, I could leave books everywhere, my hair sheds like it’s getting rid of its summer coat, i don’t squeeze the toothpaste effectively, I--”

You shut him up with a kiss and laughed. 

“You’re really selling me on it,” you chuckled. 

“Really,” he said seriously. “I feel just as anxious.”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly. 

“Does that mean you don’t want to--”

“No!” Spencer nearly yelled. “I do,” he promised. “I just am… We still both need to work on this,” he laughed. “Just know that I  _ love _ you. I would do anything for you. And I will tell you if there is ever a problem,” he promised. “And we will work through it, no matter what.”

You took in a deep breath and held it for a moment. Letting it out, you felt better. 

“Ditto,” you promised. “Especially the ‘I love you’ bit.”

He smiled warmly and kissed your forehead before getting up. 

“I’ll go see if there’s any new listings,” he said.


	19. Chapter 19

For Spencer’s second class, you sat in the same seat you had the first day. Without Roxy, you felt a little lonelier, but Spencer started teaching, and you were mesmerized. You weren’t the only one. All the students were engaged in the lecture. One student more than the others, seemed to ask a lot of questions. It got to the point where other students were rolling their eyes. You wondered if he would ask for extra homework. You were glad to see the kid so engaged and willing to learn, but you also wanted to hear Spencer actually teach.

“Yes?” Spencer sighed, pointing to the seemingly bottomless question pit that sat in the third row. 

“Okay, so Bundy fixed their hair after he killed them, right? But like what would it mean if someone wanted to cut the hair and take it with them?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed. 

“Are you referring to a specific case?”

The kid twisted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“No, I’m just… curious.”

Spencer studied him for a moment, apparently thinking about his answer. 

“Trophies are common.”

“Trophy?” he echoed.

The kid next to him, you realized, was the one who didn’t like Roxy from the previous class. He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Plebeian” he muttered under his breath. The questioner didn't notice. You chuckled to yourself.

“Hair as a trophy would mean something personal to the killer,” Spencer explained. “Maybe it reminds him of the person he really wants to kill, or someone he lost. Now, back to the subject at hand.”   
Spencer continued his lesson, ignoring the ever present hand of the student.

It was almost amusing to see this kid test Spencer’s patience. You’d never quite seen him so strained and wondered how long into the semester he could get without snapping at the kid to shut up. You didn’t think he’d ever raised his voice in front of you before. Even with Cameron, he was calm. Demanding, but calm. Some strange part of you kind of wanted to see him lose it, just for a second. 

Eventually towards the end of class, the kid settled down and resigned himself to taking extensive notes. It was a relief, but you were sad to see the end of another class. 

“You want to come over to JJ’s with me tonight?” you asked, helping him pack up his stuff.

“Why’re you going there?” he asked. “Plans?”

“Nah, the kids are having some party I guess, but Will has a saw blade I need to borrow for the house.”

“Oh,” he said. “Sure, sounds good. Should we swing by now? Before they start dinner?”

“Yeah, I’ll text her,” you offered. 

Arriving at JJ’s, you and Spencer walked into chaos. At least twelve kids ran around the house, all in various costumes. You saw a ballerina, an astronaut, and a dinosaur. JJ had answered, but she almost immediately had to attend to some child who was crying and covered in frosting. 

“Remind me never to throw a children’s party,” you muttered to Spencer, who nodded vehemently.

“Sorry about that,” Will said, coming over with Henry at his side. 

Looking down at the boy, you noticed something eerie. His outfit nearly mirrored the one Spencer was wearing at this moment.    
“What kind of party is this?” you asked curiously.

“Oh,” Will laughed. “It’s a dress as what you want to be when you grow up type thing.”

You laughed, remembering the dinosaur kid. Then, you looked at Henry. You saw Spencer doing the same, no doubt noticing the similarities. JJ returned, Michael in tow. 

“Go ahead, tell him who you’re dressed as,” JJ offered, smiling. 

Henry shyly pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Inside was a plastic sheriff's badge. 

“Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI,” he said. 

Spencer’s hands covered his mouth but he couldn’t contain his smile for long. He knelt down and took the extended “badge” that was offered to him. 

“Wow,” he said softly. “And what is your job exactly, Mr. Reid?”

You could hear the utter joy in his voice, see the love in his eyes. 

“Stop the bad guys,” Henry said, not quite meeting his gaze out of shyness.

Spencer nodded and ruffled the boy’s hair. 

“Good,” he smiled, standing back up. 

Henry pocked the badge and ran off to be with his friends. 

“What do you think?” JJ asked. 

“Did you tell him to do that?” Spencer asked. 

JJ shook her head. 

“I wanted him to buy the doctor’s outfit,” she smirked. “But he insisted.”

“Better stock up on those sweater vests then,” you jested.

“Oh we will,” she laughed. 

“I’ll go grab that blade for you,” Will nodded, heading to the garage.

JJ had to run off to grab another kid before he could eat glue, and you had a moment to watch Spencer. He was looking at all the kids running around. While you thought that he might be scared off by the unlimited amount of germs in the room, the chaos, and the noise, he seemed rather happy. You watched as he looked after Henry who was running around the room possibly pretending to be an airplane. His smile was so soft, almost all the tragedy had left his eyes. And you saw a glimpse into a possible future. Would you want kids with him? You had no doubt he would be an amazing father, but you’d never seen that for yourself before. Still, anything to add a little more of Spencer into this world would only be a good thing.

Before your imagination could conjure up too much more for you to stress or grin about, Will came back with the blade. 

“Thanks,” you smiled. “I’ll get it back to you by the end of the week. Just have some stuff to finish up. Manny’s got ours, but he’s taking the week off and forgot it in his car. Didn’t want to run out to buy one when it’ll be back next week.”

“No worries, keep it as long as you like,” Will said. 

“Thanks,” you nodded. 

“Well, you’ve got your hands full so…”

“Right, okay, I’ll tell JJ you said goodbye.”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Ready?” you asked. Spencer was still looking around at the kids. 

“Yeah,” he said, after a moment. 

“Good luck,” you smiled at Will before heading out the door. 

Walking to the car, you watched Spencer. 

“That was pretty cute,” you smirked. 

“Henry?” he laughed. “Yeah.”

“No, you,” you said, sliding into the car. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Like what?”

“So… I don’t know… Nostalgic, but like for the future?”

“The future?”

“I mean… do you want kids?” you asked, looking at your lap. 

He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Do you?”

You sighed. 

“I don't know,” you laughed. 

“I think that’s fair for now,” he smiled. 

For the drive home you both remained mostly silent. You couldn’t stop picturing him holding your baby. You couldn’t stop imagining him humming gently, cradling the small form you’d created. You couldn’t stop seeing him asleep on the couch, the baby on his chest, him reading advanced physics to the baby to help him sleep.

You wondered what he was thinking about. If he was imagining what you would look like when you were pregnant with his child, how it would feel to hold his child for the first time. But his face remained neutral, focused on the road, and you didn't ask. 

 

***

 

The second apartment you saw just didn’t feel right. The space was okay, but the layout was super closed off. It didn’t feel welcoming, and you couldn't explain it, but it didn’t feel like home to you. Spencer felt the same way, and you left, feeling dejected. You just wanted to find the perfect place, but it seemed to be slim pickings out there. 

Still, you held out hope, sticking to the websites and signing up for mailing lists with immediate updates of new listings. 

One night, you were on the couch, just scrolling through ridiculously priced houses for the fun of it, when you heard Spencer say, “Oh,” surprised, under his breath. You perked up, thinking he might have seen a new listing.

“What is it?” you asked, getting off the arm chair to come sit next to him on the couch. 

He blinked, as if he had forgotten you were there. He glanced at his phone and then back at you. 

“Um,” he said, almost nervously. 

“A new place?”

“No,” he answered, pocketing his phone. “It’s my mother.”

“Oh,” you echoed, sitting back against the couch. While it wasn’t what you were expecting, you were no less interested in this development. “What’s up?”

“She wants to come out for a visit.”

“Can she do that?” you asked, unsure of the hospital rules. 

“She said they agreed to send an aid along with her who wanted to vacation for a long weekend out this way anyway,” he shrugged. “She can take her here, I can take care of her, and then the aid will bring her back.”

“Wow,” you said. “When’s she coming? I can get an air mattress for us so she can have our room,” you suggested. You started to pull up air mattresses on your phone, but you heard him chuckle. “What?” you asked. 

“Nothing, I just… Thank you,” he said, leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“For what?” you asked, confused. 

“I tell you that my mother, who basically lives in a psychiatric ward, is coming to see us, possibly spend the weekend with us, and your first instinct is to make her feel at home and comfortable.”

You blushed. You hadn’t thought about it that way. You just knew if it was your mother, or someone you loved, you’d want them to have a good time, no matter what it cost you in sleep.

“Well I do have a small selfish motive of wanting her to like me.”

He shook his head and smiled. 

“She’ll love you,” he promised.

“I don’t really know anything about her,” you realized. “Tell me things.” 

You laid your head on his lap while he played with your hair, telling you all about his mother. He told you about the times when he was little, and she would catch him up after bedtime with a flashlight under the covers, reading. She should have yelled at him, he explained, his father had, but she knew him better. She let him read. He told you about how well she cared for him when he was sick. He told you about his childhood friend, Riley, and everything that had happened to him at that time in his life. He told you about having to call the doctors to take her away when he was so young. 

You looked up at him and touched his cheek with your hand. He had gone through so much with her. You could tell that even with the distance, they were still close. 

It was interesting though. Before this, he had only mentioned his mother a few times in passing. It was as if now he had been given permission to talk about it, and he wanted to tell you everything. You asked him to tell you a few happy stories with her, and he obliged, happily telling you about his favorite halloweens with her, and all the books she gave him. 

“So when’s she supposed to come out here?” you asked. 

“The aid has her vacation planned for three weeks from now,” Spencer answered. 

“Great,” you smiled. “That’ll give us plenty of time to find an air mattress.”

“Or a new apartment with a guest room,” he suggested. 

“Ah, and that’s why you’re the genius one,” you smiled, tapping his nose before getting up.

He chuckled softly.

 

***

 

It was as if Spencer’s offhand remark reminded the universe of your need for a place. While it wasn’t an apartment, it was even better. An older couple was moving to Florida, and decided that instead of selling their two bedroom house on a quiet street not too far from where you currently lived, they were going to rent it. 

The place was on the smaller side, no more than 1,500 square feet, but it was enough for two people to live comfortably. It had an open floor plan with the kitchen overlooking the dining room. It had a family room with vaulted ceilings, making the smaller space look larger. The bedrooms upstairs weren’t huge, but they both had full bathrooms attached. There was room for a king sized bed and a dresser, along with a few bookshelves. 

It was perfect, and what was even better was the small patio and yard out back. Secluded from neighbors by overgrown hedges, it was a sanctuary. You almost wanted to just make an offer to them, but they had insisted they were looking forward to renting it out, so you didn’t press it just yet.

They seemed happy to rent to you, and you were able to sign the lease and get your stuff together quickly. Morgan and Manny helped you move all your stuff in, and you had a full day of hauling heavy stuff out of rented trucks and into your new home. It was worth it, though. 

Once everything was put in its place, you were home. Looking around, you felt safe and happy. You hugged Spencer and looked up at him in your new living room. 

“Get a room,” Morgan smirked, as he watched you.

“We have two,” you winked, looking up the stairs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been forever! Have two chapters!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reread the next few chapters and then lost my notes. Didn't have time to reread so please excuse any errors or small plot holes!

The two of you were running late to Spencer’s class due to the fact that his new vest looked extremely flattering on him and you had taken in off him about three times before he convinced you there wasn’t time, and you’d be late. Which, you were. 

The class was full when you entered, and you blushed, despite the fact that you were a full grown woman who wasn’t even taking this class, and were dating the professor. Spencer looked almost equally embarrassed, but managed to command the full, talkative, classroom almost immediately. 

There was an envelope on his desk, you noticed, but he picked it up and moved it over while continuing to set up his laptop. Despite his late arrival, none of the students had left, and had instead stayed and waited, something you were sure not many students did these days for just anyone.

Luckily, the class went off without a hitch and the students learned about some very unsettling signatures from some disturbed individuals. The kid with the questions, whom you’d started to call Captain Question in your head, was as annoying as ever, and Spencer managed to shut him up only after exerting all his patience. 

Besides your late arrival, and Captain Question, the class was great, and you were once again beaming with pride when he dismissed the lecture. As always, a few students stayed to ask a few questions, but they eventually petered out, leaving you and Spencer alone. And him in that vest… 

You walked over, almost predatorily to him as he was opening the envelope that he’d passed over in the beginning of class. You wanted to pin him against that desk, but his expression while he read the paper made you stop in your tracks. 

His lips were moving while he read, something he only did while he was really concentrating. And you stopped. He was pale, and his eyes wide. His eyes scanned too long to only be reading the paper once, regardless of font size or word count. As you strode to his side, your eyes scanned the note. 

On a pristine piece of white paper, in almost typewriter-like font, was a note. It read as follows:

 

Doctor Reid:

 

I am writing to you because I know you will understand me. I know you will not let me down. Not like those police. Those plebeians do not deserve me.

I am going to kill. I can feel it in my soul. I ache for it, and cannot stop this impulse. 

I want to hurt women. Blonde women. I want to cut their hair off. Take their power. I want to make them bleed. 

Catch me before I kill. Involve the police and many will die. 

I know you will find me. I know you will stop me. But not before I take at least one. 

 

Yours

X

 

You stopped breathing. You read the note twice over before you let it sink in. Surely this was a joke? Some kid’s weird idea of a prank?

But you knew in your bones that it wasn’t.

“We have to call the cops,” you said, despite the note’s warning. “How would they even know?”

“He,” Spencer said. You looked at him. “The author is male.”

You didn’t have time to ask how he knew that.

“We should at least call Prentiss or Rossi,” you argued. 

Spencer sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. For a second, you forgot that he had retired for a reason. You forgot that he was still haunted by the things he’d seen while he was on the team. This had probably dredged up too many things to count. Covering your fingers with your sleeve so as not to leave any prints, you took the letter from him and placed it on the desk. 

“Hey,” you said, capturing his face in your hands. “Breathe.”

He did so and opened his eyes to look at you. 

“Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out,” you promised. “I’m going to call Rossi, okay?”

He nodded slowly, and picked the note back up, using his sleeve this time. 

You called Rossi and informed him on what was happening. Thankfully, he and Luke promised to be over right away and to bring a small forensic team for the note. Meanwhile, you just held Spencer’s hand as he read the note over and over. 

“We got here as fast as we could,” Luke said, pulling you into a hug before shaking Spencer’s hand. 

“How’s it going, kid?” Rossi asked, looking grimly at Spencer. 

The forensic team wasn’t far behind them, and after putting the note into an evidence bag, they handed it to Rossi and went to wait outside. 

“Not very original,” Rossi remarked. 

You thought the comment a little blasé, but then again, he’d probably seen hundreds of these.

“Definitely male,” Luke commented. 

“Why?” you asked. 

“Sentence structure mostly,” he said. “And wanting to hurt women, statistically male.”

“Not to mention the ego,” Rossi said, half joking. 

“Do you think it’s real?” you asked. 

“I think we have to treat it as real,” Rossi cautioned. 

“It’s probably someone in your class,” Luke said, mostly to Spencer. 

Spencer nodded. 

“Does anyone stand out?” Rossi asked. “Anyone asking for extra class work, or extra reading materials?”

Spencer thought for a moment and shook his head. 

“What about Captain Question?” you asked him. He brightened at this. “There’s this kid that asks like a million questions per class,” you explained. “Might be worth checking out. He asked a question about hair fetishes once.”

“This guy doesn't seem like the type to ask questions,” Rossi noted. “He would think he knows everything already.”

“I think it’s the only lead we have right now,” Luke said. “We’ll alert the local cops, but there’s not much we can do without any kind of evidence of real planning or an actual crime.”

“I doubt there’ll be any forensics on that note,” Rossi said. “He’d be too knowledgeable on crime for that.”

Spencer remained largely silent during this exchange, and by the time Rossi and Luke left, you were starting to wonder if he’d heard any of it at all. 

Approaching him slowly, you waved your hand in front of him. 

“Hey,” you said, as he slowly blinked and really looked at you.

He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. 

“You okay?” you asked. He pursed his lips together and let out a quick breath. 

“Not really, no,” he said, agitated. “Someone right under my nose is a potential violent criminal, and I have no idea who.”

He was almost yelling, a sight you hadn’t seen before, not in this way. It wasn’t directed at you, but somehow it felt like it. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, feeling somewhat small. 

He blinked and turned, hearing the dismay in your voice, and walked swiftly over to you. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around you, and tucking your head under his chin. “I didn’t mean to… I’m just frustrated.”

“I know,” you said, breathing him in. While you knew he wasn’t frustrated with you, hearing him say it made you feel better. 

When you parted, he cupped your face in his hands.

“Do you think it’s Captain Question?” Spencer asked. 

You shrugged.

“Not my expertise, I’m afraid. Kid’s annoying as hell, that’s all I know.”

The corners of his mouth twitched up, but he didn’t smile. 

“I bet I can find him if I asked the administration,” he said. 

“I thought Luke and Rossi were going to talk to him.”

“They’re going to get the police, they have no power here until they’re invited in,” Spencer said. “Maybe I go pay Captain Question a visit, see if he’s our guy.”

“We,” you corrected. His brows furrowed. 

“If you think I’m letting you anywhere  _ near _ \--”

“You’re not  _ letting _ me do anything,” you warned. “I do what I want. And what I want is to make sure the man I love doesn’t get hurt.”

He looked a little stunned, as you’d never been so direct with him before, but nodded. 

“Let’s go.”

 

***

 

The administration gave you the kid’s dorm number, and you were thankful that Spencer had learned the names of the kids in the class. It would have taken a while to get there if you’d both only thought of him by your nickname.

Arriving at the brick building, you followed a kid inside. They were single rooms, tiny, with one shared bathroom. You cringed, not too sad about missing out on college.

The door Spencer knocked on had chipped green paint with a cheap, plastic looking 10 on the door.

Captain Question, or as everyone else called him, Kevin, answered the door. He looked half asleep even though it was the middle of the afternoon.

“Professor,” he said, stepping back, becoming more alert. “What do I owe this honor?”

He wasn’t being facetious, you could tell. Spencer ignored him, looking instead around him and into his room. The place was a mess. There were dirty clothes everywhere, and you could smell the lack of laundry before you realized the visual extent of it. 

“He’s not our guy,” Spencer said resolutely, and turned on his heel. 

You waved apologetically to a very confused Kevin, and followed him out. 

“What?” you asked. “You didn't even talk to him.”

“Didn’t need to,” Spencer said, still walking fast.

You had to double your speed to match his stride. He seemed almost invigorated. 

“Did you see his room,  _ smell _ it?” Spencer asked, glancing at you. As he did, he saw your struggle to keep up, and slowed. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. 

“That’s not the room of a man so meticulous as to leave no forensic evidence on a note, to type it, write in precise sentences. A man like Kevin would have hand written a note on a used napkin,” Spencer almost smiled. 

“What about the hair stuff?” you asked. “The note mentioned what he asked about.”

“I think our unsub was trying to throw us off with that,” Spencer frowned. 

“So we’re back to square one,” you realized. “Are you going to cancel class?”

Spencer thought for a moment and shook his head. 

“He thinks I understand him. Coming to my class is the only time of the week that he feels understood. If I change that, he might lash out.”

You nodded. 

“So what do we do?” you asked. 

His eyes filled with worry, a look you were sure they were familiar with. 

“Wait for more clues?” he guessed. “I can try to address him in the class, but I’m worried that it will frighten the students.”

“Shouldn’t they know?” you asked. 

“While Rossi was right, and we should treat this as a real threat, we can’t be sure it isn’t some kind of weird prank or a kid who just wants to feel special but has no intention of following through. Even so, if he was so inclined, I don't think he would be so bold as to kill a classmate,” Spencer said. “Besides, we’re going to get him before he kills anyone.”

You smiled at his pronoun usage.

 

***

 

You spent the night unpacking more of your stuff. It was intoxicating seeing all of your things intermixed with Spencer’s. You loved the idea of his books next to yours, his clothes in the same closet as yours. Something about the legitimate cohabitation of it all was dizzying. 

He made you breakfast the next morning. 

“Did you get up early?” you asked, having not woken up beside him. 

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Just one of those nights.”

You frowned. You hadn’t felt him being restless last night, but perhaps he wasn’t. You saw faint circles under his eyes. Maybe he just hadn’t been able to fall asleep. It would have been a first for him, or at least one of the first times.

“Guess we’re not magic after all,” you frowned. He tilted his head to the side, confused. “I thought we were like each other’s natural Ambien,” you smirked. “But I guess not every night.”

“You didn’t sleep that night I told you I had that date with Sasha,” he countered, shoving a large bite of pancakes into his mouth. You sat back, stunned. 

“You knew?” you asked. 

He nodded. 

“I didn’t know why at the time,” he admitted. “I thought maybe you’d just had too much cake and the sugar was keeping you up.”

You chuckled. 

“Little did you know it was because my heart was in utter turmoil,” you said in your most dramatic voice. 

“I was still relaxed, just couldn’t quite sleep, at least not until the wee hours of the morning.”

Your frown didn’t lessen, but you ate your breakfast. 

“We’ll figure this out,” you said. “We’ll figure out who left that note before they can hurt anyone.”

Spencer nodded, sighing loudly. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said. “Teaching was supposed to be safe.”

“I know,” you said, covering his hand in yours. “But I don't think he’ll hurt you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Spencer said, not looking at you. 

“You don’t think I can handle myself?” you asked, a little insulted. “Even after everything with Cameron?”

“That’s not what I said,” Spencer responded evenly.

You took a breath and settled.

“What did you mean?”

“I just… There are things that no one can control. Situations that are impossible to win. I never want to you put you in even the mere vicinity of danger, and that’s exactly what happened.”

“I’ll stop going to your classes, then,” you offered.

He seemed relieved at this and nodded. 

“I think that’s for the best until we find him,” he said. 

“Mind you, all the other women in the class should probably stop too,” you said. 

“They’ll be fine,” he promised. “It’s only you that I’m worried about.”

“Why? Don’t the others--”

“I’m worried because if I somehow upset him in anyway, he might use you against me,” Spencer interrupted. 

You swallowed the rest of what you were going to say.

“Oh,” you whispered, understanding. 

“And I won’t let that happen. Not again.”

You knew he was thinking of Maeve, and stayed silent for a moment. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking about it like that.” You paused and looked at him. There was desperation in his eyes, a longing for you to understand without another word from him. “I’m sorry that you have to think like that,” you sighed, coming over and sitting on his lap.

You brushed your hand through his hair. He calmed down almost immediately. 

Your phone rang then, and you saw it was Luke. Thinking he might have something on the case, you immediately picked up. 

“Hey,” you answered. 

“Hey, I have to run on a case, would you mind picking up Roxy? I don’t mean to add to your plate, I know you guys are dealing with--”

“No, that’s fine, I’d love to take her,” you said, looking at Spencer for his approval or disapproval. He nodded, having heard Luke from the phone that was right next to him. 

“Great, you’re a lifesaver,” Luke sighed.

“No problem,” you smiled. “Good luck.”

You said your goodbyes and hung up. 

“Well, at least I’ll have someone to keep me company while you’re at class,” you smiled sardonically.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Roxy came to work with you, which the boys were overjoyed with. Roxy loved to lick Manny’s shoes for some reason, and otherwise was just kind of an extra supervisor while you worked.

You had updated Manny on everything that was going on, including the fact that Spencer’s mother was coming to town soon, a fact previously unknown by Morgan. 

“Meeting in the in-laws, huh?” Manny teased. 

“She’s not my in-law,” you laughed. Though the thought of her being so in the future had crossed your mind.

“Still,” Manny said. “I mean you guys are basically married.”

Morgan chuckled and nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on his paint roller. 

“We’ve been together for a while,” you admitted. “We’re comfortable.”

While you were happy in your relationship, a part of you still feared it would suddenly fall apart, that Spencer would realize you weren’t good enough for him and leave. You tried to shut those thoughts out like you’d promised him.

“Oh they’ll tie the knot soon,” Morgan promised. “Or else Savannah will kidnap them and force them to.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Manny laughed.

“Listen, we have a potential serial killer that Spencer is currently teaching,” you pointed out. “I hardly thing our potential nuptials are comparable.”

Morgan’s lips tightened, and the smile left his face. He’d spent your whole lives keeping you out of this kind of thing, and you were sure he felt at least a little responsible for bringing you into it now, even in the most minimal of ways.

“He’s going up against a genius,” Manny pointed out. “I hardly think it’ll be anything too dramatic.”

You shrugged, hoping he was right. 

“So anyway, what do you think about a summer wedding?” Manny asked. 

You flicked some paint at him and laughed.

 

***

 

Diana called that night to talk to Spencer. You tried to get her to video call, but she couldn’t figure out how to turn the camera, so you ended up just putting her on speaker. 

“Yeah Mom, this is the girl I told you about,” Spencer said. 

“Hi Mrs. Reid,” you waved, and then blushed, realizing you waved to a phone.

“Who?” Diana asked. Spencer sighed patiently. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked. “The girl I’ve been dating for a while? Remember I sent you pictures of our new place?”

“Oh… yeah yeah,” Diana said, but you weren’t sure she actually remembered. 

“So you’ll get to meet her when you’re out here,” Spencer said. You waited expectantly for an excited reaction. 

“Is it cold out there?” she asked. “You know how I get.”   
“No, mom, it’s fine, just ask the nurse what to bring, she’ll help you.”

“She won’t,” Diana said spitefully. Again, he sighed softly. 

“We’re looking forward to seeing you,” he said. 

“I can’t wait to meet you,” you offered. 

“Mmm,” she murmured. You wondered if she’d heard anything the two of you had just said. 

“Can I talk to the doctor again?” he asked. 

There was some fumbling and Spencer took the phone off speaker to talk to the doctor while you started making dinner. Part of you wondered why he did this. It felt like he was hiding it from you. But you knew he was sensitive about his mother, and you didn't press it.

When he got off the phone, Roxy ran to him, and he pet her absently, sitting down at the kitchen counter bar stools.

“Any news?” you asked, trying not to betray how curious you were. 

“Not really,” he sighed. “Still showing some paranoid behavior, but nothing worse than usual.”

“Well, that’s something,” you said, trying to be cheerful. “At least it’s not worse.”

He gave you a tense smile, as if to say,  _ but it’s not better. _

“What do you want to do when she’s out here?” you asked. 

“I don’t know,” he smiled. “Probably some semi-touristy stuff. She’s been around here, but I don’t think she really remembers it, so she’ll probably want to see it again. Probably some shopping for books. Nothing too intense. She really just will want to hang out here and be with us, I think.”

“That sounds good,” you grinned. 

It seemed unfair that you got to meet his parents but he didn’t get to meet yours. They had passed away when you were eighteen, and Morgan’s family had taken you in for a few months while you figured out what to do. In a way, Spencer already knew your family. He’d worked with him for many years. 

You’d discussed the note in depth with Spencer, and he’d done some research on a few things, but it didn’t seem like you were any closer to figuring it out. Really, you had to wait for another class for Spencer to feel out the room, pay attention to who was watching him a bit too closely, or not closely enough. You wished you could be there with him as another set of eyes, but you understood the trauma he’d been through, and realized that his fears were not unfounded. Making him the most relaxed he could be would be the way to solve this, and you didn’t want to be the reason for a girl’s death. 

The next class was still two days away, and you could tell Spencer was anxious about it. Thankfully, Luke had come back from the case and you’d offered him a beer and a game or two when he came to pick up Roxy. It helped get his mind off of things for a little while, but a little into the night, Luke asked if there were any developments. 

“No,” Spencer answered, dejected. “I need to be there again.”

“Such a weird note,” Luke remarked. “What was that word he used again?”

“What word?” you asked. 

“The insult.”

“Plebeian?” Spencer asked.

Something clicked in your brain and you stood up, waiting for the memory to totally come back. 

“What is it?” Spencer asked, standing with you, placing his hand on your lower back. 

“It’s… That word,” you mumbled. “I’ve heard it before. Someone in your class said it.”

Luke stood now too, interested. 

“That’s something,” he said. “No one uses that word. Who was it?”

“Um…” you wracked your brain, closing your eyes. It had been two weeks ago, and your memory wasn’t even a quarter what Spencer’s was. 

“It was that kid!” you said, once you had opened your eyes and seen Roxy. “That kid that didn’t like Roxy. One of the first ones in on the first day.”

“He sits next to Captain Question,” Spencer said. “Name’s Greg Powers.”

Luke pulled out his phone. 

“Garcia,” he said, and turned to walk away from the two of you to talk to her. 

“Do you think he’s the guy?” you asked Spencer animatedly. 

“Maybe,” Spencer allowed. “Seems an uncommon noun. We’ll know more once Garcia does some digging and we can talk to him.”

After a moment, Luke hung up and came back to the two of you.

“Kid’s mostly clean,” Luke said. “Only thing is one fight back in high school, but that sounded like just troubled teen stuff. Nothing I didn’t get into when I was young.”

You thought Spencer would look disappointed, but it seemed to confirm what he was thinking. 

“He probably learned from that incident not to draw attention to himself. If he’s our guy, it makes sense. He doesn’t ask any questions but he’s always on time, always taking notes and engaged. He writes over the minimum word count for every assignment.”

“We should bring him in,” Luke said seriously. “If he’s serious about this potential killing, we should bring him in.”

Spencer nodded. 

“He’s careful, though, we wouldn’t have anything to hold him on.”

“He might slip up with the right interrogation technique,” Luke offered. 

Spencer nodded absently, thinking.

“I don’t want to wait until something happens, but I also don’t want him to walk out of an interrogation feeling invincible.”

Luke frowned. 

“Maybe you watch him in class again?” you offered. “See if there’s another note, or if he says anything if you talk directly to him?”

“I think we have to,” Spencer said.

He was wringing his hands together for the first time in a long time, and it made your stomach twist. It meant he was anxious, and that was the last thing you wanted for him.

“Okay,” Luke said. “I don’t want to spook him or whoever it is, but I think me or one of the team should be there.”

“Prentiss or JJ,” Spencer said. “With his view of women, he wouldn’t think they were FBI or held any sort of law enforcement position.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the kid’s stupidity. 

“I still would prefer it if you… didn’t come,” Spencer mentioned, moving his hand from your back to your hip and pulling you against him. “Just to be safe.”

“That’s fine,” you nodded. 

“She can stay with me,” Luke offered. “Just to be extra safe?”

Spencer looked relieved and nodded. 

“That would be great.”

“You can come hang out with the team at work,” Luke offered. “I’m sure Garcia would love some company in her cave.”

“That sounds great,” you smiled. 

After a few days of work before the next class, you went with Luke to the FBI. You hadn’t been there in a while, but nothing had changed, other than the fact that JJ and Prentiss were with Spencer while you were there.

Tara and Rossi were out consulting on a case, but Matt was there, and Garcia was thrilled when you stopped by her tech cave.

“I’ll leave you ladies for now,” Luke said, pulling up a chair for you next to Garcia. “I’ll be back around lunchtime unless you need anything before then.

You hugged him and thanked him, taking the seat beside Garcia and sighing. 

“While I’m mundo glad to have company, it must kinda suck, huh?”

"I love see you,” you smiled. “But I mean, a little. I feel like a burden almost.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “Oh my god, you’re like the opposite of a burden. You’re like… a feather? Anyway, not a burden,” she promised, booping your nose with a pink, feathered, pencil.

You pressed your lips into a fine line, not entirely convinced. Once again the FBI were having to babysit you. 

“He just wants to protect you,” she said. 

“I know,” you sighed.

“I don’t know if you do,” she said softly. “I know you know about Maeve, but… It’s not just her. There’s been a lot of loss on this team. Not always deaths, but situations that take people away. And Reid’s not one to make those connections often. When he does, it destroys him to let people go. This… What he has with you, is stronger than anything. Like a million times stronger than anything he’s had before. He will protect you at all costs because you’re the most precious thing to him. Period.”

You sat, stunned at her passionate speech. She sat back, satisfied by the look on your face. 

“Oh,” you muttered. 

“Yeah, well… I know you know he loves you but… I’m not sure you know how much, or what it would mean to lose you.”

Spencer had expressed as much, but hearing it from Garcia, the fierce protectiveness in her voice, made it more real.

For most of the day, you watched Garcia work, played around on your phone, and listened to music. Luke took you out to lunch with the gang. 

Spencer’s class started in the afternoon, and it was only about fifteen minutes in when you got the call from him. They were bringing Greg Powers in for questioning.


	22. Chapter 22

The first thing he did when he saw you was to wrap his arms around you. He breathed you in like he hadn’t seen you in a year. His hold was so tight, you almost felt it difficult to breathe.

“You okay?” you asked, when he finally let go. 

“Yeah,” he smiled grimly. “Just happy to see you.”

You rested your hand along the curve of his jaw and gently kissed his cheek. 

“Not a pretty picture,” Rossi said flatly, flipping through a few photos. 

“No,” Spencer agreed. 

You almost went to look, but Spencer moved to block the images before you could see them. 

“I promise you, you don’t want to look at those,” he said seriously, holding your gaze.

“He’s kidnapped a girl and is holding her somewhere. Wants to play with us,” Rossi said, in the verbal equivalent of an eye roll.

“Any clues in the pictures?” you asked. 

“They’re amateur photos, blurry and a little out of focus. Hard to make out much of anything.”

You nodded, disappointed. Your thoughts drifted to the poor girl. You looked through the glass at the boy sitting on the other side. You hadn’t thought much of him when you’d seen him in class. But you supposed no one thought much of Ted Bundy either.

“You going to do the interview?” Rossi asked Spencer. 

“I think I have to,” Spencer said. “Do I have permission?”

“I think this is special circumstances. We’ll say you’re consulting.”

He nodded and bit his lip. You wondered if he felt rusty, or if it was like riding a bike.

“Right. Okay,” he said. He turned to you. “You don’t have to watch this,” he said. “You can go hang out with Garcia or something instead.”

“No,” you said, almost too enthusiastically. “I want to watch you in your element.”

“It’s not my element anymore,” he reminded you. 

“Isn’t it though?” you asked. 

He thought about it, but didn’t argue. He grabbed the photos and a case file from Rossi and walked into the interrogation room with more confidence than you’d seen in a long time.

The first thing he did when he sat down was to check his watch and sigh. Then, he took a seat and placed the files in front of him. 

“Hi, Professor,” Greg said nervously. “What’s this about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Spencer said. “Just that the FBI got a lead on this person who’s been leaving notes on my desk, threatening women.”

“And they think it’s me?” he asked, too innocently if they asked you.

“No,” Spencer dismissed. “I mean, they have reason to suspect you, circumstantial at best, but I told them no way.”

Greg sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“I said no way it’s Greg Powers,” Spencer almost laughed. “No offense, but we’ve both read your papers. This guy,” Spencer pointed at the notes in the evidence bags. “He’s smart. And I’m not saying you’re not but…” he trailed off and pressed his lips together. “You know,” he finished. 

Greg tensed again, sitting forward in his chair and looking at the notes that Spencer had shifted ever so slightly towards him. 

You were amazed by him. He was so confident. You understood his ruse, undermine this guy’s ego and hope for an outburst. Still, he did it with such finesse, in the little things he did just with his body let alone his tone and choice of words, that left you speechless.

“Those are the notes?” Greg asked. 

“These? Yeah,” Spencer said, checking his watch again. “Personally, I think they were written by a woman. A really smart woman.”

Greg’s jaw clenched and for the first time, you could see the real river of anger just below the surface.

“I don’t think so,” Greg said. 

“Oh?” Spencer asked. “Why’s that.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he backed off. “I just think usually it’s men that do that stuff to women.”

“By that stuff, do you mean torture and murder?”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“This unsub isn’t just torturing and murdering women. She’s chosen to invite the police into the game. That implies that she’s highly intelligent and confident she’ll get away with it.”

“Or he,” Greg said tensely. “But you don’t think it could be me.”

“No,” Spencer laughed. 

“Why not?”

Spencer looked at Greg’s hands that were laid on the table.

Spencer shrugged. “You’re not really smart enough or strong enough.”

It was boiling inside Greg now, and you could almost hear his heartbeat.

“It didn’t take much strength to knock her out and carry her to that storage locker,” he grinned. “It took smarts to keep her there without anyone noticing for two days.” 

For a moment he was gleeful, happy to have proven Spencer wrong. Then, he realized his mistake.

“Did you get that?” Spencer asked towards the two way glass. 

Rossi tapped on the glass to acknowledge and called Garcia. 

Spencer folded up his case notes and walked out of the room while Greg yelled obscenities and threats.

“Think that’ll be enough?” Spencer asked, walking almost breathless into the room. 

“See that?” Rossi asked, pointing to something in the photo. He held it so you couldn’t see, something you were sure Spencer appreciated. “Looks like a five to me. We’ll have Garcia search the local storage units with the numbers marked on the insides, see if he rented one with his own name. If not, we search all the units with fives in them until we find her. Odds are he wasn’t too dumb to pay with a card, but you never know. If the confession doesn’t hold up, she’ll still be able to ID him.”

Spencer sighed, satisfied. 

“I’m going to go see about the booking paperwork,” Rossi said. “‘Scuse me.”

He left the room, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer was staring out at Greg Powers who was still fuming at the table. He flinched when you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. You wondered if it was because no one had embraced him like that while he was in this building. When he settled, you nestled your head against his back. 

“You’re good at this,” you said. 

He took a breath and turned to you, looking down at you with big eyes.

“I’m arguably good at a lot of things,” Spencer half-smiled. 

“Yeah, but--”

“Listen, I know what you’re going to say, and the answer is no.”

“How do you know--”

“You’re going to tell me I should go back to profiling,” he said confidently.

You frowned. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “You should think about it.”

He looked away from you for a second and then returned his gaze, stepping closer to you. You looked up at him, half expecting him to kiss you. His hands found your hips and held you close to him. 

“I promised you that I would never put you in any danger,” he said firmly. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t the target, I--”

“Please,” he said softly. “Just listen.”

You bit your lip and did as he asked. 

“You have no idea how many…” he stopped for a moment, choking on the words. “You have no idea how many people I’ve lost… In so many ways because of this job,” he said, barely pushing it out without breaking. “And I loved them all. But none of them half as much as I love you.”

You could feel the tears starting to form in your own eyes, mirroring his. 

“And I will never risk this. I know that this whole thing happened because I was teaching about profiling. But I know the risks of that happening again are statistically improbable. If I rejoined the team…” 

“Statistically probable?” you guessed, wiping away the tear that had fallen. 

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Okay,” you said. “I just want you to be happy. I didn’t want to cause you any pain I just see how good you are in there, and I thought--”

“I know,” he said, kissing your forehead. “But no matter how good I am at this, I will always want to be better at being with you.  _ That _ is something worth pursuing.”

You smiled slightly and blinked away the last of your tears. 

Rossi came back and you both turned towards him, Spencer sliding his hand along the small of your back as you did. 

“Everything’s all set,” Rossi reported. “You’re good to go if you’d like.”

Spencer nodded and looked at you. 

“Or you could stick around for a drink?” Luke asked, popping up behind Rossi.

“Or you could do that,” Rossi smiled. 

Spencer looked at you for your approval, and you nodded. 

“Sounds great,” you said. 

You expected to go out to a bar or something, but instead Rossi led the three of you to his office, picking up the others who happened to be around as he went. Prentiss and Garcia joined you for a drink. Rossi poured out of an old looking bottle in his desk. There wasn’t quite enough seating, so you sat in Spencer’s lap, an action not unnoticed by Garcia who smiled at you.

“Just like old times, huh Reid?” Prentiss asked.

He smiled tentatively and nodded. 

“I guess so,” he said. 

“I bet you don’t miss it though,” she guessed. 

Spencer made of a noise of consideration, but looked up at you. You were busy watching Prentiss, but noticed after a moment that Spencer was staring at you. When you did, you smiled, stunned. The look in his eyes had surprised you. Usually he was rather reserved in front of his friends. But now, with you in his lap, his hand around your waist, and the gaze in his eyes, the gaze of unconstrained admiration and love. It was breathtaking.

“No,” Spencer concluded. “I don’t miss it.” 

You blushed, hearing the implication that you were the reason his life was so otherwise fulfilled.

“Good man,” Rossi smirked. 

“What’s up for the rest of the week, the, Boy Wonder?” Garcia asked. “No more crime fighting, I presume?”

Spencer laughed. 

“No, we’re, um, actually getting stuff ready for my mom to come visit.”

The team almost simultaneously leaned forward. 

“Diana’s coming out?” JJ asked. 

“Her usual nurse is seeing family out this way, and volunteered to drop her off for the duration,” Spencer said. 

“Wow, that’s nice of her,” Prentiss said. 

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed. 

“Well, tell us when she’s here and we’ll stop by for a visit,” JJ offered. 

“Sounds good,” Spencer said.

While he kept a decent poker face, you could tell that he was unsettled by the idea for some reason. When you were driving home, you asked him about it. 

“Do you not want JJ to see your mom?” you asked gently. “Not judging either way, just asking.”

He sighed slightly and shook his head. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Depends on what mood she’s in, if she’s too paranoid, or having an episode, I don't want to expose her to that.”

“Too paranoid?” you asked. 

“It’s part of her diagnosis,” Spencer explained. “She’s often sure that everyone around her is trying to kill her.”

You nodded, trying to understand. 

“I’m sure JJ would understand if something happened. She’s just trying to be supportive.”

“I know, but I feel bad enough exposing you to it, let alone other people.”

“Not it, her,” you corrected him. “And I don't care. Neither would JJ. Your mother’s sick, but she can’t help it. We’ll deal with whatever happens, but bottom line is, she’s your mom, and she brought you into this world. I think I owe her my life basically,” you assured him.

Spencer grasped for your hand without taking his eyes off the road. He brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. 

“Anything for you,” you said. And meant it.


	23. Chapter 23

After all the excitement with Greg Powers, you were excited to get back to work. It was worth it, though. Getting the note from the rescued girl, thanking Spencer for his help in saving her, was incredible. The investigation, while short, had largely prevented you from working. Morgan, Tim, and Ryan were first on the scene the morning you came back, and Manny arrived a little later with doughnuts.

You got some serious work done that week, and were getting the house in very good shape. You worked mostly with Morgan on tiling the bathroom that day. 

“So, Skates, you’re meeting Mama Reid today, right?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the tile. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “It’ll be interesting.”

“It certainly will be,” Morgan agreed. “It’s a big step.”

“Oh not that, I mean just meeting her. Spencer said she’s pretty sick.”

“Right,” Morgan nodded seriously. “She is,” he said. “But she’s still lucid enough to travel, that’s got to be a good sign.”

You bit your lip and nodded, though you knew nothing about the medical world and what would prohibit a patient from flying.

“You think it’s a big step?” you asked, backtracking. 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Meet the parents! They made a whole movie out of it,” he smirked. 

“Ha-ha,” you fake laughed. “Really.”

“Really,” Morgan confirmed. “Spencer wouldn’t let his mother meet just anyone. How long has it been for you two?”

You looked outside at the leaves that had almost completely turned yellow and orange.

“Six months,” you realized. 

“He’s showing you he’s really serious about this,” Morgan said, resting the tile down on the floor to look at you. It’s a big step, I promise.”

“Wish I could reciprocate,” you lamented. 

“He’s already met our parents,” Morgan smiled softly. 

You felt your heart lurch toward him as he said that, and reached out your hand his him. He squeezed it before returning his gaze to the tile. Morgan’s family had essentially been your family after your parents had died. Although you didn’t see them as often as you’d like to, you still considered them your true family. 

You spent the day mostly with Morgan while Tim, Ryan and Manny worked on different parts of the house. It was exhausting, but at least the weather had cooled down these days and you weren’t drenched in sweat by the end of it. Well, not as much anyway. You were, however, covered in drywall dust and various other debris by the end of your day. You checked your watch to make sure that you still had enough time before Diana was supposed to arrive. 

You suddenly wondered what you should address her as. Mrs. Reid? Diana? You didn’t know what she would expect, but considered the more formal address a good place to start.

You trudged home, hoping you didn’t get the floors all dirty with everything on you at the moment. You were opening the door, when you heard a woman’s voice. Startled, you opened it all the way to find Spencer in a room with an older, blonde woman. You checked your watch again. It couldn’t be her already, could it?

“(Y/N)!” Spencer grinned as you closed the door behind you. “Come, meet my mother. Mother, this is (Y/N).”

You instantly felt your face pale. You were wearing your work jeans, that were splattered with paint, had a bunch of holes in them, your similarly distressed t-shirt, and work boots. Your hair probably looked like it hadn’t been washed in a few days (it hadn’t) and you weren’t wearing any makeup.

“I thought you were coming in later,” you laughed, embarrassed. “I would have cleaned up for you.”

“They were, but they got switched to an earlier flight,” Spencer smiled, seemingly unphased by your appearance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Reid,” you extended your hand to her and then jerked it back. “I’m probably really gross from the site, feel free not to shake my hand just yet.”

You stood in silence as she took you in. You felt small, like an ant being judged by a cat. She had large, intense eyes, not dissimilar to Spencer’s. She looked you up and down and then held out her hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, as if declaring a verdict. 

You shook her hand, and smiled, feeling as though you’d passed a test. 

“Sorry for being such a mess, again. I’ll go clean up,” you promised. 

“Don’t apologize for working hard,” Diana said. “I’m glad to see it.”

You smiled and nodded slightly before almost running into the bedroom. You showered as quickly as you could, and only allowed yourself two minutes of deliberation on an outfit before returning to the living room.

“Feeling better?” Spencer asked with a small smile, kissing your temple as you came to stand next to him.

“Yes,” you laughed. “Mrs. Reid--”   
“Diana,” she held up a hand.

“Diana,” you smiled. “Are you going to come watch Spencer teach tonight? I know you were supposed to get in after the lesson, but--”

“Oh no,” she cringed. “Far too bleak a subject for me.”

Spencer’s lips pulled together in a thin line but he said nothing. 

“Oh, alright,” you said. “Would you rather hang out here with me?”

She considered this for a moment and then nodded. 

“Great,” you smiled. While the prospect of alone time with Diana scared you a little, you were also looking forward to getting to know her a little better.

“How was your flight and everything?” Spencer asked. “Was the nurse okay to fly with?”

Diana bit her fingernail and nodded. 

“Yes, Spencer. I could have done it without her, you know.”

“I know,” he placated her. “But it was nice of her to bring you out here.”

She shrugged and looked at you. 

“So, you restore houses with the other one?”

“Morgan,” Spencer offered. Diana cast him a glance and then looked back at you. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You were a professor, right?”

She nodded and began to talk about her time teaching. She seemed incredibly lucid to you, and you had almost forgotten she had any problems at all. Spencer seemed to enjoy talking to her, and he bragged about you incessantly.

Spencer checked his watch and grimaced.

“I think we’d better eat an early dinner if we want to eat together,” he said. 

“Sure, I can throw on some pasta?” you asked. They both gave their agreement and you started the pot. 

“Where’s the bathroom again?” Diana asked. 

Spencer pointed her down the hall, and she was gone, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. He walked excitedly back to you with a smile on his face. 

“She seems really good,” he grinned. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Really good.”

“Maybe the new meds are helping,” he suggested. “I’ll have to call the doctor for another update.”

“Maybe,” you nodded, not wanting to commit after only being with her for an hour. “I’m sure it’s kinda of a comes-in-waves situation, though, right?”

He sighed and nodded grudgingly. 

“True,” he said. “But she seems different.”

You were going to say something, but Diana came back into the room, and you simply smiled at her instead. You ate dinner together, and before you knew it, you were alone with her.

“So,” you smiled. “What would you like to do.”

She had been smiling at the door, watching Spencer leave, but her expression turned serious as she turned to you.

“Listen to me,” she said carefully, grabbing your hand. “The nurse that brought me here is trying to kill me.”

You blinked and shook your head. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked, thinking you must have misheard her. 

“She put something in my coffee this morning,” she said, conspiratorially. “But I saw her, and ‘accidentally’ spilled it.”

“Right,” you said flatly, trying to process what was happening.

You remembered Spencer saying that she had these paranoid episodes. It was one thing to hear about them, another to be confronted with it. Alone. 

“We should probably tell Spencer,” you said gently. 

She shook her head vehemently. 

“He won’t believe me,” she said. 

“But you trust  _ me _ ?” you asked. 

She looked you over once more and nodded. Your chest hurt. This woman trusted you, thinking, genuinely, that her life was in danger. 

“I’m a good judge of character,” she promised. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sort of at a loss,” you admitted. “What exactly would you like me to do about it?” you asked. “Call the doctor? Ask for a different nurse?”

“Don’t make me go back to that place,” she said, her voice showing the first sign on weakness, desperation.

You sputtered a nonsensical sentence and took a breath. You were in way over your head here. You thought about discreetly texting Spencer, but you’d seen how happy he was seeing his mother in a lucid state, you couldn’t bear it. The thought of telling him when he got back was somehow even worse. 

“I-I can’t make those kinds of decisions, Diana,” you said softly. 

“But you can convince Spencer,” she said eagerly. 

“I’m not sure that I can,” you said. “But I can promise you that no one is trying to kill you.”

“No you can’t,” she dismissed. “She’s sneaky that nurse. There wouldn’t be any proof.”

You knew that trying to convince her it was only her disorder would be futile, and didn’t try.

“Why don’t we just talk about this with Spencer when he gets home?” you offered. 

She shook her head again. 

“I just need you to convince him to get me out of there.”

You pressed your lips together.

“What if we flew with you back there and we asked for a different nurse?” you suggested.

She considered this for a moment. 

“The woman wants me dead,” She said decidedly. “She won’t give up with a simple reassignment.”

You realized you were in a bind here. You didn’t want to lie to her, but nor did you want to ignore her and make her feel unsafe. 

“I’ll talk to Spencer,” you promised. Which wasn’t a lie. You would, just not to convince him of anything.

“Thank you,” she sighed, looking genuinely relieved. 

You squeezed the hand she had given you lightly and she smiled distractedly at you. Then, something seemed to occur to her. 

“How long have you been seeing my son?” she asked. 

“I think about six months,” you said. You let your hand fall on the pendant he had given you. It felt like you’d always been together, it seemed strange to say such a short amount of time. 

She considered your answer for some time. 

“Spencer’s never really dated,” she reflected. 

“Neither have I, really,” you shrugged. 

“I’m glad he has someone,” she said. 

And for a moment, you were glad to hear her say that, but the expression on her face stopped you. While she had been a little frantic earlier, she was dead calm now, eyes clear and focused. 

“This… thing that’s happening to me,” she said. “Pretty soon I won’t remember that I even have a son anymore. I won’t remember that I loved him.”

She wasn’t emotional so much as tactical in this speech. You wondered if she worried letting herself feel anything would cause her to break down. It had to be remarkably hard to hold onto this lucidity, but she was trying her best. You didn’t know what to say, and just stared open-mouthed at her.

“All I’m saying is, I’m glad that he has someone who can remember for him.”

She looked at you pleadingly, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement. You managed to close your mouth and nod. 

“Of course,” you muttered. “Of course. I’ll remind him every day if he needs it.”

She nodded and finally let go of your hand. She wandered into the living room and started looking at the books. You were still standing in the kitchen, stunned. 

Diana grabbed a book, sat down, and calmly started reading without another word. You couldn’t focus on anything, and went to the bathroom to collect yourself. 

Breathing, you tried to process what just happened. Not only did Spencer’s mother entrust you with what she thought was her safety, she also trusted you to hold onto her son’s memory of her. It was a lot to process alone, and you had a staggering two more hours to kill until Spencer came back. You just had to hold on until then, and it would be fine, you told yourself. 

Thankfully, Spencer’s mother spent the rest of the time reading silently in her chair. You held a book but read the same page at least three times without remembering anything before giving up and just zoning out at it. Diana didn’t seem to notice.

You jumped when the door opened, nearly throwing your book across the room. With some effort, you managed to pull yourself together enough to place a somewhat convincing smile on your face. Spencer walked in, seemingly happily, and greeted you and his mother.

“How was the class?” Diana asked.

“Good,” he smiled. “What did you guys end up doing?” 

“Just talking, reading,” you said, before Diana could interject. 

“I think I’m going to take a shower and then head to bed,” Spencer said. “Been a long day.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds good.”

“Mom, let me know if you need anything. We’ll be right in there,” he pointed to the bedroom. 

“Yes, I know where people sleep,” Diana rolled her eyes, but smiled. 

“Alright, well, good night then,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

You went to follow him, but Diana grabbed your arm and gave you a look. You swallowed hard and nodded. She relaxed, and you felt like you’d betrayed her. While you said you’d talked to Spencer for her, she assumed you meant about getting her out of that home, rather than what you were really going to tell him.

When you closed the door behind you, you leaned your head against it and exhaled, closing your eyes. 

“You okay?” Spencer asked, midway through taking off his tie.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. 

“No,” you admitted. 

He frowned and looked rather guilty. 

“I know she can be alot--”

“No, that’s not it,” you assured him. “Well, probably not in the way you think.”

You bit your lip trying to come up with the best way to tell him what had happened. 

“You should probably sit down,” you said, pulled him to the bed. 

Spencer looked at you seriously. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Spence, she… she told me she thinks the nurse is trying to kill her.”

You watched his face, but it didn’t change like you thought it would.

“You must have misunderstood,” he said evenly, standing up and continuing to undress.

“She said the nurse poisoned her coffee, and that she wouldn’t rest until Diana was dead.”

You watched him unbutton his shirt with enough force that you were worried they would fly off. 

“She was just joking,” he said, unconvincingly. 

He fumbled with his belt and got so violent with it, you stood up and grasped his hands with yours. 

“She wasn’t,” you promised. 

“You don’t know her,” he said angrily. “You just met her.”

You pressed your lips together. 

“You… don’t believe me?” you asked. 

He blinked and took a breath. 

“I…” he walked away from you and for the first time in a long time, you felt alone. “I just think there’s another explanation other than--”

“I don’t think the new meds are working,” you said softly. 

“Well you’re not a doctor,  _ are _ you?” he spat, turning on his heel. 

You flinched, something you weren’t used to doing around Spencer. Although he’d never even given you the slightest inclination that he would hurt you, your hands instinctively flew up at his tone as if to block the words themselves. When he saw this, his hand went to his mouth and sighed, closing his eyes. You didn’t move. 

“(Y/N), I am so, so sorry,” he breathed. 

He walked towards you carefully, and you lowered your hands cautiously. He watched them lower and slowly enveloped you into his arms. You allowed this, still stunned, and let him hold you. 

“Please forgive me,” he said, lips near your ear. “When it comes to my mother, I--”

“It’s okay,” you heard yourself say. And when you did, you relaxed into him. “I know,” you said. 

And you did, or you were starting to anyway. The anger wasn’t directed at you, it never was with him. The anger was fear. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you. It was that he didn’t  _ want _ to believe you. He pulled away, but still held your arms. 

“Is it?” he asked pleadingly. 

“I know you’re scared of losing her,” you said. “But you have to know what’s going on in order to help her.”

He nodded slowly. 

“I know,” he whispered.

“She did make me promise something,” you said softly. He perked up at this. “She said that if she starts to forget you, I’m supposed to remind you how much she loves you.”

You saw the tears well up and spill over before he wrapped you back into a hug.

“What do you want to do?” you asked, when he pulled away. He still looked slightly guilty. 

Spencer sighed and rubbed his temple. 

“I guess I’ll fly back with her and explain what’s going on to the doctor,” he said. “Maybe she can be assigned a new nurse until they figure out a new drug regimens.”

You nodded, but weren’t thrilled by the plan. Still, there really wasn’t a cure here, just temporary band aids, each one falling off faster than the last, it seemed. Regardless, you were in this together now, for better or worse as the saying went.

“Should I come with you?” you asked. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“I wouldn’t put you through that.”

“It’s not putting me through anything,” you said. “It’s helping family,” you said. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards but he simply nodded. 

“Alright,” he said.

You told Diana of your plan the following morning, and she seemed delighted. Spencer called her nurse to give her the update, and she was completely understanding. She was aware of Diana’s paranoid tendencies, and wasn’t surprised. You thanked her for bringing her out here, and offered to pay for her flight home.

After giving Morgan and the boys the heads up, you headed out to Las Vegas with Spencer two days later. The facility was very nice, and everyone was extremely friendly. Diana seemed happy to see her doctor, and you sat with her and played checkers while Spencer updated the doctor on the situation. They were able to make arrangements to help Diana, and you were surprised at how easily the whole thing went. 

Jumping time zones and the stress of the travel was exhausting, and you slept on the plane ride back, resting your head on Spencer’s shoulder. You could tell he didn't sleep, as he looked quite worse for wear when you landed.

You got home and Spencer dragged himself across the house and into the bedroom, not even bothering to take off his shoes. Smiling to yourself, you crossed the room, gently laying the bags near the door to the bedroom to deal with the following day. Spencer was lying diagonally across the bed, face down, eyes closed. You could tell he wasn’t asleep yet, but he was exhausted.

You gingerly took his shoes and socks off, tossing them aside. You heard an appreciative mumble from him. You helped him shrug off his jacket and shimmy out of his pants with as minimal movement as possible. You lifted his shirt over his head, and placed kisses along his collarbone. You undressed as well, and by the time you got back from the bathroom, he was lying on his side of the bed, barely keeping his eyes open to watch you. 

You crawled in and slipped under the covers, facing him. 

“Thank you,” he said, kissing your forehead.

“Anything for you,” you repeated what was now your mantra. 

“You know I’d do anything for you too?” he asked, through half-closed eyes. 

“I know,” you smiled, feeling the heat of a spark in your chest.

“Really,” he emphasized, eyes fully closed now, half asleep. “ _ Anything. _ ”

“I know,” you laughed. 

“Anything,” he mumbled one more time before falling asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops! sorry I am taking forever to post these. thanks for the continued love!

You and Morgan were busier than ever. You’d had to contract out another team to keep up with the demand for your work. People were starting to take notice of the craftsmanship the two of you could deliver. You’d divvied up the work so that each of you were supervising a team. This let you do two houses at a time, nearly doubling your revenue. It was great to be busy, but for Spencer’s birthday, you took off a few days for a long weekend with him.

While some couples might have gone away for a tropical vacation, or gone up to the mountains for a ski holiday, the two of you were more than content to spend Spencer’s birthday weekend at home, mostly nude, reading and spending time together in between making love.

To his surprise, you presented him with a decently decorated cake topped with candles. As he sat at the dinner table, you laid the flaming dessert in front of him. 

“Make a wish,” you said. 

“ Actually, candles were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century, Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a pagan ritual,” he smiled up at you. 

You chuckled and kissed the top of his head. 

“Alright, well, if you don’t make the wish, I will,” you warned teasingly. “Come on, make a wish for the thing you want most,” you said dramatically.

He quickly turned his head, as if he’d thought of something worth wishing for, and blew all the candles out. 

“I suppose you won’t tell me what you wished for?” you asked. 

“Traditionally, it wouldn’t come true if I did,” he advised. “Best to wait until after it comes true.”

“You think it will?” you asked, removing the candles from the cake and laying them onto a paper towel.

Spencer pressed his lips together in thought, tilting his head to the side slightly as he looked at you. It felt like he was calculating something. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I think so.”

As the days grew shorter, and the trees started to turn, you found that you and Spencer both had an obsession with Halloween. You completely decked your house out, and were no doubt the most popular destination for trick or treaters that night. 

Spencer finished his course a few weeks before Christmas break. Instead of buying each other presents, you had both opted to donate to each other’s favorite charity in their name with the money you would have spent. Still, you got some chocolate to wrap up just to have something to put under the tree and open on the day.

Business slowed down in the winter, but it didn’t stop. It was a nice break, though, and you had more than enough funds to make it through to spring. Your team went back down to just you and your regular boys, and it was easier to make time to spend with Spencer. Since he was on break, he used his extra time to write and research which meant many nights laying your head on his lap and letting him absently play with your hair while he read.

When the snow had melted, and everything had bloomed, you weren’t surprised to discover that Spencer knew the exact minute you had gotten together. You celebrated your year quietly at home, your fingers finding your waltzing pendant frequently just to remind yourself that it wasn’t all a dream.

Life with Spencer was amazing. You’d been living together for a while now, and while you had feared he might discover something about you he couldn’t stand, it didn’t seem to be the case. If anything, living together had brought you closer together. It was as if you could read each other’s minds sometimes, anticipating what the other would need in a given situation.

When Rossi had everyone over for another gathering, more than a few people commented on your closeness. While Spencer was with Matt looking at photos of his kids, Garcia pulled you into a conversation with the girls.

“I just have to say, m’lady, that I am in love with your love,” Garcia smiled at you.  

You stole a glance at Spencer who had also glanced up to see you, and laughed. 

“I’m just happy to see our boy happy,” JJ said. 

“It’s been a year now, right?” Prentiss asked. You nodded. 

“Time went by so fast,” you admitted. 

“It always does,” JJ lamented.

“I’d imagine that goes double for kids,” Tara nodded. 

“Yeah,” JJ laughed. “Definitely does. Although part of me is ready for them to move out so I can get some beauty sleep again.”

“You’re already too gorgeous, doll-face,” Garcia said, lightly pinching JJ’s cheeks. 

“Oh, I love your ring,” you commented, seeing Garcia’s fashionable silver ring. 

She looked surprisingly happy at this comment and slipped it off. 

“Here, try it on,” she offered. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you take it off,” you laughed. “I was just admiring it.”

“Here,” she said, taking your hand and sliding it onto your ring finger. It was a little loose, but you liked how it looked. 

“Where’d you find it?” you asked. 

“Flea market,” she shrugged. 

“Nice, I’ll have to go check it out,” you nodded, handing her the ring back. 

She slipped it back on and giggled. 

“I’ll be right back,” she said. 

You kept talking to the girls while Garcia went over to the kitchen. She poured herself another drink and talked with Spencer and Matt for a moment before coming back over.

“All refilled,” she smiled. “Now, what’d I miss?”

 

***

 

“Um, yes, it’s about damn time,” you nearly yelled into the phone. “Of course I’ll watch Hank. It’s about time you guys went on a date night.”

Morgan laughed into the phone. 

“Our usual sitter is busy, otherwise I wouldn’t bother you.”

“It’s no bother,” you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know why you pay someone, I always tell you--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you promise to only maybe drop him once.”

You laughed and nodded. 

“I’ll be over in an hour,” you smiled. 

“Feel free to bring Pretty Boy too,” he offered. 

You hung up after saying your goodbyes and told Spencer about your new plan for the evening. He was happy to tag along and packed a few books. 

Hank was already down when you got to Morgan’s house, and you all talked quietly. 

“Where are you guys going?” you asked. 

“Salsa class,” Savannah grinned. 

“A class?” Spencer asked. “Don’t you already know how to dance?”

“It’s more of a couple’s date night,” Morgan shrugged. “Like paint nights but with dancing.”

“Oh, cool,” you smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

“Maybe you guys should tag along next time,” Morgan offered. “I think they’re doing waltzing next week. They like to mix it up.”

You glanced at Spencer. He seemed nervous, like he was waiting for you to answer a life or death question. You gave him a confused look and turned your attention back to Morgan.   
“Yeah, we’ll have to do that,” you nodded. 

Glancing back at Spencer, you noticed he had relaxed again. Shaking your head at the weird hiccup in the conversation, you saw the couple out the door and were left alone in a quiet house. 

“Time to raid the fridge,” you grinned mischievously at Spencer.

He chuckled as you dragged him into the kitchen and got some snacks. 

You laid your head on his lap as he read. You were watching some garbage television show that was absolutely enthralling. You checked on Hank now and then, but he was asleep for the entire two hours. Any time you looked at him in his crib, you wondered if you would want this one day. Would you want to start a family with Spencer? You’d discussed it briefly, but neither of you knew exactly how you felt on the subject. Still, any time you saw Spencer holding a child or even just gazing at one, your heart melted. 

The night was uneventful, and you greeted a sweaty Morgan and Savannah happily. 

“Good night, huh?” you asked. 

“I need a shower,” Savannah laughed. 

“I need to join you in that,” Morgan winked and kissed his wife’s temple. She giggled. “Any catastrophes?” Morgan asked. 

“Oh yeah he got abducted by aliens, sorry,” you shrugged. 

“Was bound to happen sometime,” Savannah laughed. 

“Alright well we won’t keep you from your shower,” you winked, grabbing Spencer’s hand. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“Thanks again, Skates,” Morgan said, wrapping you in a sweaty hug.

“Ew,” you laughed, pushing him away. “Go shower.”

He saluted you as you exited with Spencer in tow. For some reason he seemed nervous in the car ride home, the same way he had when you’d first gotten there. You got inside your house, and finally decided to say something.

“What is with you?” you asked, pushing his arm playfully. “See a ghost or something?”

He looked at his lap and laughed to himself. 

“No,” he answered. 

“Then what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he smiled coyly. 

“Fine,” you breathed. “Well, whenever you’d like to share with the class--”

“I think we should take that class with them,” Spencer said, stumbling over words to get them out faster.

“Okay,” you laughed. You had only been half serious when you’d said yes to Morgan, unsure if Spencer really wanted to go. “Is that what was bothering you?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t been on a real date in a while. I think it’d be nice,” he said.    
“Spence, did you think I’d say no?” you asked. 

He rolled his eyes but rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. A telltale sign.

“Oh my god, you did,” you laughed. “Dude,” you smiled, straddling his lap, “Why?”

“I didn’t think you’d say no to  _ that _ ,” Spencer said, and it rang true. So why was he so anxious?   
“Then what?”

He suppressed a smile and shook his head. 

You made a face at his vagueness and decided that instead of having him make your head spin with whatever was going on, you wanted to make his spin. You saddled back onto his lap and flipped your hair around, getting his attention. Pressing your arms together to enhance your cleavage you leaned over, clearly displaying everything you wanted to. When his eyes widened you snickered and captured his lips with yours. Grinding your hips against his, you went to work on the buttons of his shirt, slowly baring his chest. Taking your kisses south, you traipsed along his chest, sliding off the couch and onto the floor as you did so, opening his knees. You glanced up to see the pure awe on his face and smiled. After you’d outdone yourself, if you did say so yourself, you wiped your lips and sighed, looking at the dazed Spencer before you.

As you were getting up to get some water, Spencer surprised you by pulling you by the wrist, back to him. He kissed you and then laid you on the couch, returning your surprise favor with one of his own. When he emerged from between your legs, he was smiling at your panting form. 

Whatever was going on with him, it hadn’t interfered with his passion for you. You thought back to that walk in the park at the beginning of your relationship. He wouldn’t tell you what was going on with him, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to be a dark secret to you. He seemed nervous, but almost playfully. If only you were the profiler in the relationship, you sighed, looking at him while he made you some sleepy time tea.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any cinemasins fans, there’s a roll credits moment in this one

It took Spencer so long to get ready for your dance class, you thought you were going to be late. You’d dawned a summer dress, and done a bit of makeup just to look the part. When he finally emerged, he was wearing what he always did, and you wondered why it had taken so long to assemble this outfit. 

“Ready?” you laughed. 

He looked sweaty, and you wondered briefly if you could convince him not to wear long sleeves to a class that would make him undoubtedly sweatier. Deciding against it for fear of being even later, you dragged him to the car. 

The class was being held in an old barn that someone had remodeled. You would have come just for the modeling job alone. The whole thing was gorgeous. Rustic wooden exterior, classic X’s on the doors. The barn was two stories high, and inside the main area was open, extending up into the rafters. Two sets of stairs on either side of the barn led up to what looked like little balconies. Perhaps so friends of the dancers could watch the lessons, or maybe even recitals. 

There were stringed lights hung on the walls, and rustic chandeliers hung from the ceiling rafters. It was all gorgeous, and for a moment you forgot you were supposed to be at a dance lesson. It took you a moment to realize why something felt off. The barn was empty. 

“Aren’t we a little late?” you asked.

Spencer was somehow even sweatier and his pupils seemed huge. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, when he didn’t respond. 

He laughed, almost to himself, and nodded. 

“Yes, sorry. Um, maybe we go the time wrong.”

“Or the day?” you guessed. “But there’s music playing.”

And there was, you realized. A waltz. 

“Maybe the class starts later than we thought, or the teacher sent out a notice and we just didn’t get it,” you posited. 

Spencer swallowed hard and nodded, guiding you to the center of the barn. 

“Might as well get in some free practice?” he asked. “I know it’s been awhile, but I think we know the basics.”

“Well, you certainly do,” you laughed, taking his one hand in yours and guiding the other to your waist. “I will certainly try to.”

Spencer shook his head and the two of you started dancing. You were a little rusty, but you only stepped on his foot once, at which he laughed. 

“Do you remember when we first started dancing together?” he asked. 

“Took us a while to find a rhythm, huh?” you smiled warmly.

Spencer smiled.

“I suppose it did,” he nodded. “I’d say we found it now, though.”

You realized you were dancing quite well now, though you could tell the song was coming to an end. 

“Yes,” you agreed. 

The music faded out, and you kissed Spencer before taking a step back. Hearing a door open from the back, you turned your head, expecting to see whomever was teaching the class. Instead, you saw Morgan and Savannah. Maybe they had gotten whatever memo you missed about the later start. 

That theory soon faded as you saw Garcia, Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, Luke, Matt, and Tara file in behind them. Stranger still, you saw Manny and Tim following. You furrowed your brow, confused as to why they were all here. You were going to ask them, but you turned to Spencer to see if he had an explanation. When you had turned back to see him, he was gone. Or rather, he wasn’t standing anymore. 

Looking down, you saw Spencer Reid on one knee, holding up a small box with a dazzling ring inside. 

Your heart stopped. You blinked, trying to decide if this was a dream. You glanced back at the team who had finished filing inside. They were all beaming at you, and Morgan motioned for you to turn back around. 

“What--”

“On my birthday, you asked me to wish for the one thing I wanted most.”

His hand was shaking, the ring was barely staying in his grasp. 

“And this is it. I want you. I want to spend forever with you.”

His voice was shaky and on the verge of cracking. 

“Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t speak. Everything inside you was bursting.

“Yes!” you blurted out finally, when your brain decided to connect to your mouth again.

He sighed happily, his shoulders dropping all their tension. He slid the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly. You heard your friends, your family, cheering behind you, but that all went away when he kissed you. It was just the two of you in that moment. When you finally pulled away, they had surrounded you.

Garcia and Luke were crying. You hugged everyone and finally let a breath out. 

“Wow,” you laughed. “I was  _ not _ expecting that to happen. I’m so glad you guys were here.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it, Skates,” Morgan smiled, pulling you into a hug. 

“I wanted this moment to happen with family,” Spencer explained.

“Again, I would like to claim full credit for this,” Morgan announced, pointing at the two of you. 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t disagree.

Garcia sniffed and wiped her running mascara with an embroidered handkerchief.

“Come here,” she cried, pulling you into a tight hug. “I am so relieved.”

“Why?” you laughed. “Did you think I’d say no?”

“Gods, no,” she sniffed. “I thought I’d given the surprise away when I forced you to try on my ring. Spencer just wanted to double check the size, and we knew after you tried it on you were one size down. But GOSH did I think you were onto us,” she laughed.

“Oh, no, I had no idea,” you admitted.

“And I thought we might have tipped you off when we asked you to come to the class,” Morgan smirked. “Cuz Boy Wonder couldn’t keep a poker face to save his life.”

“Actually, I am quite good at bluffing in poker,” Spencer pointed out. 

“But not with this one,” Morgan teased, pointing at you.

Spencer rolled his eyes and Morgan playfully punched his arm.

Your heart swelled with joy as you looked around at your family and felt the ring on your finger. How could this be your life after everything you’d been through this year. It had all turned out so perfectly, and you suddenly felt very unworthy. But selfishly, you didn’t care. It was yours and you were going to hang onto it with both hands. 

As Spencer was pulled away by Garcia into another tearful hug, you felt Morgan tap you on the shoulder. 

“What?” you smiled at him. 

“Nothing, Skates,” he smirked. “Just wanted a hug.”

He pulled you into his arms and you sighed happily. 

“I’m not saying you deserve full credit,” you started, pulling away to look at him. “But I do owe you thanks for sort of setting things in the general right direction.”

“You’re welcome for completely orchestrating your entire life’s happiness,” he nodded with a smirk.

“I mean, you’re not wrong there. My entire life has changed. And it’s because  _ you _ finally let me into your life. All of it.”

He looked at his shoes, feeling a little guilty. 

“I did kinda keep you at arm's length sometimes, huh?” he asked. 

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “And I understood why. Lord knows after this year I still get it. But… I’m glad that I finally got to see this side of you,” you said, looking around at all the lovely people in the barn. “Your friends here are a huge part of who you are, and I’m glad that I finally get to be a part of that.”

He pulled you into another hug and kissed the top of your head. 

“As shitty a reason as it was for you to have to move up here, I’m glad you did,” he said. 

“Me too,” you chuckled. 

You felt a hand slip around your waist, as Spencer gently pulled you to his side. He kissed your temple and you beamed. 

“So is there actually a dance class here tonight, or…” you giggled. 

“Ah, we may have misled you on that one,” Spencer admitted. “The class is actually tomorrow, we just rented the barn a day ahead of time.”

“Sneaky,” you smirked. 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t use it,” Luke said, turning the music up. 

It was a lively tune, and Spencer didn’t miss a beat swinging you around. Everyone found a partner and started dancing, making sure to switch things up now and then so you got to chat with everyone. The evening, while not what you had expected at all, was the best of your life to date. In a gorgeous setting, surrounded by people you loved, laughing and dancing. You couldn’t have asked for more. 

When midnight rolled around, you decided to call it quits. Tired, and a little sweaty, you plopped into the car with Spencer and stared at him sleepily as he drove you home. 

You did actually fall asleep in the car on the way home, and when you woke up, you were in bed. You were watching Spencer change and get ready for bed when you realized he had carried you in, and laid you into bed and under the covers. You must have been  _ out _ . All that excitement was too much, you guessed happily. 

“Hey,” you said, voice groggy with sleep.

“Ah, did I wake you?” Spencer asked, sliding into bed. 

“No no,” you promised. “Just happened to wake up.”

“You were out,” he chuckled. 

“I guess so,” you smirked. 

“All that committing to me for life is quite exhausting,” he teased. 

“Not in the slightest,” you promised, looking at your ring. 

He wrapped himself around you as you both looked at your ring. You weren’t much for jewelry, and you hadn’t envisioned what your perfect ring would look like, but somehow it fit. It wasn’t just that the ring fit your finger, or that the diamond was exactly the right size and shape to your liking. It was that everything fit. Everything about your life with Spencer. Everything about him, good and bad, fit into all the places that were good and bad in you. Your ring glinted with the incoming moonlight from the window and you sighed happily. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for being so patient and lovely :)

When you woke, Spencer’s hand was tangled with yours. You saw your ring and immediately smiled. You frowned, however, when you saw Spencer’s bare ring finger. It didn’t feel right. You wanted a ring on that finger immediately. 

Turning over quickly, you startled your fiancé awake.

“Morning,” he squinted in the bright morning. 

“Morning,” you said, almost business-like. “I’ve been thinking.”

He slowly adjusted to the light and looked at you sleepily. 

“In the two seconds you’ve been awake?” he asked.

“Mhm. Okay so I think we should get married like now. Like today.”

He let out a soft chuckle and kissed your forehead. 

“Well today is Sunday, but it also takes 24 hours to get a marriage license pretty much anywhere but Las Vegas.”

“Let’s go to Vegas,” you suggested, sitting up. 

You expected the same energy from him, the same wanting that you had to get this done. But when you looked back, he was laying there, looking concerned. 

“Why do you want to rush this?” he asked. 

Rush hadn’t been the word you were thinking. But when he said it, it made you think. Why were you so anxious to do it? Up until now you’d only really seen the event like a piece of paper. Frowning again, you looked down at the sheets. 

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted. 

He sat up with you and brushed your hair away from your face.

“Are you scared if you wait, you’ll… change your mind?” he asked tentatively. 

“What? No!” you nearly screamed. “Fuck no, Spencer.”

He laughed at your profanity and seemed convinced.

“Then why?” he asked. 

You bit your lip. While you had just chastised him for thinking you would get cold feet, you realized that’s what you were thinking, only in the reverse. 

Breathing out, you answered him honestly. 

“I guess… I don’t know. As much as I’ve tried to work on that stupid voice in my head, when really big things come around, it still tells me I don't deserve them. That one day you’ll figure out that I’m not worth it, that you made a mistake and I’m some kind of imposter.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Spencer smiled at you. 

“What?”

“It’s a common phenomenon,” he explained. “It’s a psychological pattern in which an individual doubts their accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a fraud.”

You blinked at him. 

“Really?” you asked. “So…”

“You’re not alone in those feelings, but while you may feel them, it doesn’t mean they’re true.”

You sighed. 

“That only helps a little,” you admitted. 

He took your face and cupped it in his hands. 

“Listen to me. I will tell you a thousand times over that you are everything to me. Whenever you’re in doubt, I will shout it from the tallest rooftops that I love you and always will. And I will do whatever it takes to make those doubts disappear.”

You smiled and kissed the hands that cupped your face. 

“How did you silence that voice?” you asked. 

“I didn’t,” he smiled sardonically. “I’ve just decided I only have one life, and while you’re somehow under the delusion that I’m worth  _ your _ time, I’m going to try to hang onto it.”

He gave you a smirk, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“God, we’re some pair, aren’t we?” you laughed. He nodded. “Well, I too would shout from the rooftops. Maybe even skywrite,” you offered. He chuckled and kissed your bare shoulder. 

“Let’s get married next weekend,” he offered. 

“Seriously?” you asked. He nodded. “All we need is the license. We can throw a small party after we get back from the courthouse.” 

“What about your mom?” you asked. “Don't you want her to be there?”

He smiled sadly and shook his head. 

“I don’t think she could handle another big trip like that, much less keep it together for the ceremony.”

His voice was laced with sadness, but you heard the truth in them. Leaning your forehead against his, you sighed.    
“I love you,” you whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

 

***

 

When you told the team to block off their weekend for your wedding, they thought it was a joke. Garcia was the first to express her feelings. 

“But… I thought I would get to throw a bachelorette party,” she lamented. “And I thought we could be bridesmaids and have shenanigans and tomfoolery!”

You chuckled at the blonde, taking her hands in yours. 

“We’ll always have tomfoolery as long as you’re around,” you laughed. “But we’re just not made for that mold. We’re… I don’t know, we’re just us. Unconventional I guess.”

“I can get behind that,” she smirked. 

It didn’t take long to get the team on board, and Rossi again volunteered his house for the reception party. While you were hesitant to accept, his yard was a lot bigger and he had a pool. You realized your and Morgan’s weddings would be very close to each other in anniversaries, and you loved it. He had been a part of your whole life, why not this part too? For as much as you denied it, he was partly responsible for the love of your life. 

 

***

 

You weren’t nervous. There were no more butterflies in your stomach as Morgan walked you down the aisle Rossi had made in his backyard. There were no sweaty palms or nervous smiles. You were confident, radiant, and humbled as you walked through the yard towards Spencer. Although you were technically legally married with the paperwork and everything, you still wanted a small ceremony for your friends. You glanced at everyone as you walked down the aisle in your white summer dress, and couldn’t believe your luck. It hadn’t been so long ago that you’d been running from your old life. And now you were walking hand in hand with your best friend into another.

You kept it brief, barring yourself from crying too much at your vows, and making sure Roxy had a part in carrying your rings in. 

Some of your friends came with presents, the best of all was Luke’s. He presented you with a small box, and for a moment, you thought some jewelry was going to be inside it. Giving him a quizzical look, you opened the small box. Inside was a tag with a name and your address on it. It looked very much like a tag from a dog’s collar. It was even the same shape as Roxy’s. 

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking up at the smiling man. 

“Roxy’s breeder just had another litter,” he explained. “I put down a deposit in your name… If you want him.”

Your heart leapt out of your chest and you bounced on the balls of your feet. Glancing over at Spencer, you saw the hint of a smile ladened with defeat on it. 

“We’re getting a dog,” he said, resigned. You could tell he knew he would lose if he even tried to fight you on this. 

“Well, it is a  _ gift _ ,” you said, as if that rationalized such a life decision. 

Spencer looked at Roxy and smiled. 

“You’re going to get a new friend, huh?” he asked, and smirked at you. “It would make you happy?” he confirmed. You nodded enthusiastically. “Alright,” he said, taking the tag from you to look at. “Cerberus,” he read, and smiled. 

“You can change it if you want, I just needed to pick a name to get the tag.”

“I actually find Greek Mythology very interesting. Did you know--”

Luke interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder.

“No we didn’t, but I’m sure you’ll tell us all about it. Once I have a few more drinks.”

He winked and left you with Spencer. 

 

***

 

Of course you danced at your wedding. Rossi had cleared the lawn and put down a makeshift floor. Just as he had with Morgan, he laid out all the stringed lights and made the place feel like a magical oasis. When you danced you felt your waltzing pendant swing gently on your chest in time with the music. It reminded you with every beat, how lucky you were to have found this. All of this. You had a whole new family, a whole new life. You had the love of your life and an unlimited amount of potential ahead of you. 

You thought back to the beginning of your relationship. You smiled to yourself thinking about how nervous you had been, how sure you were that someone like him could never love someone like you. And yet here you were, rings on your fingers, fully committed to one another. And you didn’t doubt it anymore. Somehow, at last, you realized you deserved it. With Spencer’s hand in yours, with him wrapped around you, spinning and twirling you around, the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, you knew. This was it.


	27. EPILOGUE

As the years passed, you both saw great triumphs in your careers. Spencer became a dean, and you expanded your team of construction workers three-fold. You and Morgan both worked hard for a long time before you saw fruits of your labor really come around. It got to the point where you were more of a manger than a laborer, and you were reaping the benefits of many years’ hard work. It also meant that you had more time to spare. And you spent it with Spencer. 

You had witnessed many couples who’d gotten married and for one reason or another, grown bitter. However, this was not the case with you and Spencer. You truly loved each other. You cherished each other, and knew what it meant for the two of you to get this far. 

In the years that came, Morgan and Savannah welcomed another child, Francesca, named after his mother. You got to see both children grow up, and realized they were the first people you would know for their entire lives. 

While you weren’t actively trying to get pregnant with Spencer, about a year after Francesca was born, you found you were late for your period. After going to the doctor and confirming, you found out you were indeed pregnant. 

At the time, you had just started to renovate a three bedroom house on the outskirts of town. It was a quiet neighborhood with lots of kids. You bought the property and renovated it to your liking. You moved in when you were about six months pregnant. 

Cerberus was the only one home when you went into labor, but he remained calm and let you anxiously pet him as you waited for Spencer to rush home from his lecture. Being a service dog, as you’d trained him, Cerberus rode with you to the hospital and was allowed into the room once you’d given birth. He laid at the foot of your bed as you stared down at your child. 

It seemed that life with Spencer was going to be a never ending dance full of twirls and dips, maybe even a few stepped-on toes. But it was the most beautiful dance you’d ever had, and you never wanted it to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgans mum’s name is Fran and I just guessed it was short for Francesca
> 
> Also thank you again!!


End file.
